


Remus Re-Erected

by KatesBrain



Series: Remus Re-erected [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, M/M, Post-Order of the Phoenix AU, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-25
Updated: 2005-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatesBrain/pseuds/KatesBrain
Summary: Just before Harry begins his 6th year at Hogwarts, Remus unintentionally gets involved in a wind-up designed to make Dudley jealous, and this results in an unexpected intimacy between Harry and Remus. As Remus tries to present the same face to the outside world that he has always shown, whilst having an illicit relationship, he finally learns what’s important in life and what his priorities really are.- originally posted Sept 2004





	1. Remus Recruited: The Inability to Say No

  
Author's notes: This story was inspired by **Dudley Lamented** , which is a lovely piece of Harry/Tonks smut written by **Magic of Isis** , which you can read [here.](http://www.geocities.com/magicofisis/dudleyconsent.html) But don't worry if you don't care for het; although Remus Re-erected is technically set in the Dudley Lamented universe, it can also be read on its own. Gratuitous thanks for all those who have helped to beta this, namely, **Leslie, Stella, Gena, and especially Sue.** Any mistakes left are due to my own idiocy; please feel free to point them out to me!  


* * *

“No. Things can’t be the same between us,” Sirius asserted, looking directly at Remus, his gaze never faltering. “I can’t do it, not after what happened.”

And with that final proclamation, Remus felt something crumble inside. It was over, and it was his fault. He couldn’t remember anything hurting as much as this. Not even when Sirius had been taken away to Azkaban Prison, when Remus had assumed him guilty of betrayal. At least there had been a reason then, one in which Remus could find some sense of understanding. He had been able to believe that there wasn’t anything he could have done: Sirius had been the one who had led a double life. But this time round, there was no one else for Remus to blame. 

***

The material under his face felt wet, and he was shivering. Opening his eyes, Remus was momentarily disorientated by the grey shapes and the silence that surrounded him. Then he remembered where he was: Grimmauld Place. He was alone and in bed, the blankets hanging off and draping over the floor. Remus didn’t often wake up like this, and for this he was very thankful. Just over a month ago, there had been a tinge of hope that he clung onto—that he could somehow be what Sirius wanted, or that Sirius would change his mind—but now this hope had been completely erased. Sirius was dead, and these dreams, these… memories only served to drive the point home in a most unpleasant way.

Sitting up, Remus rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The clock on the bedside table showed that it was only half past five, but he knew there was no point in staying in bed now: he would only lie there thinking and analysing _that_ particular conversation. What was the point? Instead, he would shower, dress, and find some way to occupy himself until the others turned up. He was good at keeping himself busy. At least he was guaranteed plenty of company today; that always helped to keep him from descending into depressing thoughts of the past.

After eating, he started repairing the wall where the portrait of Mrs Black had been forcibly removed only a few days earlier. It had been a huge relief to no longer hear her raving on about mutants and freaks befouling the house. Although her ranting was vague enough for no one else to realise exactly what she had been getting at, Remus had been _very_ aware of her meaning, and it had been another unwelcome reminder of the past. Mrs Black had been one of the few people who had ever found out about his relationship with Sirius. At least she had been so disgusted by the idea of him and Sirius together that she could never bring herself to explicitly state just how close they were. 

The task of repairing the wall was a long-winded one. All residue of the magic used to remove the portrait had to be completely cleared before he could begin re-plastering, and he had only finished half the task when the others started to arrive. 

First to turn up were the Weasleys: Molly, Arthur, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George. Hermione, who was staying with them until the beginning of term, came as well. Remus cleaned himself off before helping Molly get drinks for everyone, welcoming the opportunity to be distracted by some friendly conversation. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione soon made themselves scarce upstairs, while everyone else sat in the kitchen talking, waiting for the other members of the Order to arrive.

Once the others had assembled, the meeting began with the usual updates from each member present. Remus sat there listening, with nothing of importance to report after having spent the past week indoors. He wished he could be of more use, but as a well-known werewolf, there were only so many things he could actively participate in. As much as he liked living in Grimmauld Place, he knew it wasn’t healthy to spend so much time here; it certainly hadn’t been healthy for Sirius. But without a practical reason for going out, Remus couldn’t bring himself to leave the house. To leave this connection to Sirius. 

Remus forced his attention back to the meeting. Kingsley was now informing everyone present of the latest attacks, and more importantly, the attitude of the Ministry in each case.

“Yes, the Ministry is finally accepting that Voldemort is back, but they are still far too willing to dismiss many of the attacks as mere coincidence. We all know about the attack on Ollivander’s last week and the chaos that caused. Well, Fudge is implying that Ollivander is losing his touch after all these years and triggered the cascade of exploding wands himself!” Kingsley turned to George and Fred. “How is the repair work going?” 

Remus had been watching them out of the corner of his eye for most of the meeting. They had spent the time fidgeting in their seats, desperately trying to behave themselves and resist the temptation to add the occasional flippant comment. 

“It’s taking more time than expected,” George promptly replied, “but it should be done in a couple of weeks.” 

“We’re helping whenever we can,” Fred added. “The first years won’t have to wait long for their wands.”

Albus smiled at this. “That’s good to hear. When it’s done, I’ll arrange for Ollivander to come to the school, as term will have already started by then.”

“Do be careful, boys,” Molly added, her face full of worry. 

“Mum!” George and Fred protested. They hated the way she still insisted on fussing over them in public. She had already made it clear to everyone that she wasn’t at all happy that they were now included in the Order meetings.

“Well, I don’t like you being involved. It’s not safe.”

“Would it be safer if they were unaware of everything that was going on, Molly?” Albus asked. “Their store is in Diagon Alley, which has been the focus of several incidents recently. Because they are included in what we know, we were able to warn them that an attack had been planned. Had they not been a part of the Order, they would not have been forewarned.”

Molly nodded, but also pursed her lips to make it clear that, although she understood, she still didn’t have to like it.

“How did it go with Harry last week?” Albus asked Tonks. 

“Fine,” Tonks said, and Remus noticed how she had flushed slightly as she answered. “We didn’t have any problems getting to Diagon Alley, and it was quiet while we were there. He’s got everything he needs for the start of term. Do you need someone to take him from his house to the station on Monday?” 

“That won’t be necessary,” Albus told her. “I have been keeping an eye on the wards put up around Privet Drive, and yesterday, somebody had placed what I can only assume to be a Monitoring Charm on the area. As soon as it was detected, I had it deactivated, but it is still a worry. I believe that it will not be safe for Harry to travel straight from the Dursleys’ to the station on Monday morning. I had thought of arranging to Portkey him to Hogwarts, but I would rather not get the Ministry involved. Instead, we shall send someone to collect him Sunday afternoon. I have made arrangements with Giles Thickey to set a room aside at the Green Dragon. That way, Harry’s journey to King’s Cross won’t be anticipated.”

“Would you like me to collect him?” Tonks asked, a little too eagerly for Remus’s liking. Surely she wasn’t developing a crush on Harry? After all, Harry had only just turned sixteen.

Kingsley shook his head. “I need you with me over the weekend. We’ve got to set up some wards that have been disabled along the train line. They’ve been tampered with on the part of the track that runs through Scrimgeour’s land.” He turned to give Remus an apologetic look. “Sorry, Remus, but you know how Scrimgeour is about werewolves. You’ll have to be Harry’s escort.”

Remus nodded, letting the prejudice just wash over him. He was used to it, and it had ceased to be a surprise to him a long time ago. Now, he just expected that sort of attitude; surprise was only a factor when someone _wasn’t_ biased against him.

“It’s about time you got out of this place, Remus,” Molly said. “Surely it isn’t necessary for you to live here all the time. Don’t you want to go back to your own house?”

“I don’t mind, really. It makes sense to have someone here: we often need to have messages passed on,” Remus replied, glossing over his reasoning and ignoring the fact that he wasn’t prepared to let go of this part of Sirius just yet. Remus subtly re-directed the conversation back to the issue at hand. “Do you want Harry to be informed the same way as before, a phone call and a message via one of Arabella’s cats?”

“Yes,” Albus confirmed, “that seemed to work quite well last time. But I’m afraid you’ll have to take some Polyjuice. Apparently, Martha Edgecombe will be staying at the Green Dragon that night. Giles is worried she’ll see you, and he doesn’t want to risk losing her custom.”

Yet again, it seemed that business to be carried out for the Order had been dictated by his status as a werewolf. 

One by one, the members of the Order dispersed. Molly and her brood were staying there for a few hours while Arthur was at work; Tonks also chose to hang around, going upstairs to speak with Hermione. Molly insisted that Remus sit down for a while, since he always seemed to be doing something when she turned up. She would get Fred and George to help her finish repairing the wall. 

After spending fifteen minutes sitting at the kitchen table with his head in a book, Remus was distracted by Hermione and Tonks coming into the room.

“Er, Remus,” Hermione tentatively began. “I was going to give Harry a call, to let him know what’s happening at the end of the holidays. Is it okay if I do that now?”

“Yes, of course.”

She picked up the phone and moved it to end of the table, glancing nervously in Remus’s direction as she and Tonks sat down. A phone line had been set up at the beginning of the summer specifically to make it easier to contact Harry; he had mentioned to Hermione that it was nice to be able to hear a friendly voice every now and then. 

“Just get on with it, girl,” Tonks prompted when Hermione hesitated at dialling the number. “I’m itching to find out if he’s still winding Dudley up. Don’t worry about Remus.”

As Hermione finished punching the numbers into the phone, Tonks pressed closer in an effort to hear Harry’s voice through the other side of the receiver. 

“Hello, can I talk to Harry please?”

Both girls sniggered at whatever had been said the other end. 

“Dudley sounds bitter, doesn’t he?” Tonks commented.

“Hello, Harry.”

As fascinating as his book was, Remus couldn’t resist peeking over the top at the expressions on their faces. Almost immediately, Hermione had started to blush, and Tonks’ eyebrows had risen in astonishment at something that Harry had said.

“I take it you’re still playing with Dudley’s head,” Hermione said, clearly amused about something.

Remus went back to his book, trying to ignore his curiosity. But his determination to keep his nose out of it didn’t last after the next outburst from Hermione.

“Harry Potter! I’m shocked,” she suddenly exclaimed, her voice breaking into an embarrassed giggle. “Where do you get all these ideas from? This is what I’d imagine it’d be like to call one of those sex lines!”

Remus instantly looked up at Hermione, who was wide-eyed but laughing. Her complexion was becoming redder by the second, and she was beginning to shift uncomfortably in her seat. 

Tonks caught Remus’s eye and smiled slyly, and he gave her a questioning look. In response, she yanked the receiver out of Hermione’s hand and passed it across the table, prompting a startled gasp from Hermione. Intrigued, Remus tentatively brought it to his ear.

“…then I’m going to trace my fingers along the insides of your thighs, gently and softly, teasing you like never before. Then I’m going to follow the same trail with my tongue, lapping at your soft sweet skin, kissing my way upwards as I hold you still, wrapping my hands firmly around your hips…”

_Oh, my God!_ Remus thought, feeling his jaw drop as he listened. _I can’t believe little innocent Harry has a mouth like that. The last time I heard anyone talk this way was… too long ago._

Hermione had initially looked horrified when Tonks had handed the phone over. But when she saw Tonks giggle at Remus’s stunned expression, Hermione began to relax and soon couldn’t help herself from sniggering as well. 

“…and when I get closer, I won’t touch you. Not yet. I’m going to inhale you, breathe in your heady scent, and then blow gently over the parts of you which are begging for my attention…”

Remus stubbornly ignored the sensation of not having quite as much room in his trousers as he did earlier. _I really don’t think it’s appropriate for me to continue listening to this,_ he told himself firmly before taking a deep breath and then clearing his throat to make sure his words didn’t come out as a squeak.

“I never realised you thought about me that way, Harry.” 

Hermione and Tonks both collapsed with laughter. On Harry’s end of the line there was silence. 

“This is Remus, by the way. And, please, do carry on,” Remus continued, trying to sound sarcastic and not in the least bit bothered by the subject of Harry’s phone call. “I wouldn’t want Dudley to suspect anything on my account.”

“I think I’m going to wet myself…” Hermione gasped before staggering out of the kitchen in a hurry. Tonks was still doubled up.

“Dudley’s gone now,” Harry said in a croak. 

Harry sounded highly embarrassed at what Remus had heard, and he grinned, imagining the blush and matching sheepish expression that would be on Harry’s face right now. 

“Oh, has he?” Remus asked. “Not because of me, I hope. Hermione was supposed to be passing on a message to you, but she’s had to run off in fits of laughter. So you’ll have to make do with me instead.”

“Is this about getting back to Hogwarts?”

“Yes. You’re not going straight to the station this year. Instead, I’ll be taking some Polyjuice and coming to collect you a day early. We’re going to stay overnight in London, nearer the station. That way, no one will be able to predict your journey.”

“Oh, okay.”

“You should be getting the details via Mr. Tibbles this evening, so you’ll know what time to expect me.” Remus fiddled with the cord of the phone, feeling strangely reluctant to end the conversation. “Has everything been okay, over the summer? You haven’t been getting bored, by any chance?” 

“A little bit.”

“Poor Dudley, I bet he was having kittens listening to you.”

“It was retaliation; he’s been giving me grief.”

Remus chuckled. “Do you realise that Tonks has also been listening to the phone call? Is she in on the joke as well?”

“Er, yes. Yes, she has been.”

As Harry confirmed this, the door to the kitchen opened with a bang, and Hermione walked in, still grinning inanely. 

“Have you told him the message?” she asked.

Remus nodded.

“Ask him…” Tonks began with a suppressed snort and an evil glint in her eye, “ask him, does he need another _display_ for Dudley when he’s collected, like last time. And if so, does he have a preference for anyone in particular?”

Remus frowned at the odd request, but relayed it back to Harry anyway, receiving an instantaneous reply.

“Yes. Tonks, please.”

“Tonks?” Remus confirmed. _What is this about?_ he wondered. _What exactly have these three been up to this summer?_

Once more, Hermione was looking at Tonks in shock. She had a hand over her mouth, but Remus could see a huge grin peeping out from underneath it.

“Er, Remus, Dudley’s coming back now. Can you put Hermione back on?”

“No. Sorry, Harry,” Remus said with a smirk, not sounding at all sorry. He couldn’t resist the opportunity to wind Harry up. Neither Sirius nor James would have been able to let something like this pass them by, and they certainly would have been disappointed with Remus for doing so. He continued with his sarcastic refusal. “I can’t have you corrupting Hermione with that type of filthy talk. You’ll either have to make do with corrupting me instead or end the phone call. Is there anything you wanted to know, any messages to pass on?”

“No, no messages. I… I… Piss off, Dudley!” There was a brief pause, before Harry whispered, “You know you’ve asked for it,” then he continued brazenly, “I miss you. I wish you were here tonight so I could do all those things to you. Sleeping in my bed without you is unbearable. We’ll do it soon, though, won’t we? I can’t wait. Bye, gorgeous!”

The phone line went dead, and Remus placed the receiver back into its cradle, noticing that his palm was now damp with sweat due to the way Harry had been talking.

Tonks and Hermione both rolled up in another burst of laughter. 

“I can’t believe you suggested that, Tonks!” Hermione said, in between chuckles.

“I can’t believe Harry went for it! I guess he really _is_ getting lonely there.”

“Are you two going to tell me what this is all about?” Remus asked, but he didn’t receive an answer to his question. Instead everyone’s attention turned to the kitchen door as George Weasley walked in, looking bemused. 

“Mum wants to know what all the noise is for,” George announced. “She says that if Tonks and Hermione have nothing better to do than sit around giggling, then they can make everyone a cuppa.”

“I’m not entirely sure myself, George,” Remus admitted. “Except that these two are causing trouble.”

George grinned at this and immediately pulled up a chair.

“Spill all, ladies.”

“Harry’s been winding Dudley up,” Tonks explained, “trying to make Dudley jealous at Harry’s supposedly frequent and varied sexual forays. And Remus has just volunteered to put on a bit of a display for Dudley’s sake, when he picks Harry up on Friday.”

“I… what?” Remus’s jaw dropped, wondering just how he had managed to become involved with their little scam. 

“You said it on the phone, Remus,” Tonks pointed out with a grin. “He’s going to be expecting ‘me’ to turn up. You can’t let him down now.”

Remus screwed up his face as he thought hard about the previous conversation with Harry, trying to remember the details of what had been said.

“What _exactly_ do you mean by a ‘display’?” he asked, starting to feel a bit paranoid about what they were expecting him to do.

“Well, you can’t tell Kingsley any of this,” Tonks began, looking far too smug for Remus’s liking. “But when I collected him last week, Hermione and I arranged to give Dudley an _eyeful._ Hermione had me dolled up something stupid, which left Dudley positively drooling. And to top it off, I gave Harry a _very_ warm welcome in front of Dudley.”

By now, George had a huge smirk plastered across his face, and his shoulders began to shake as he started chuckling silently in his seat. Remus had the uncomfortable feeling that George had already worked out what was coming next.

“So,” Tonks continued in a matter-of-fact way, “Harry’s now expecting you to do the same.”

“You’ve got to be joking!” Remus spluttered.

“ _I_ have to be joking?” Tonks asked. “ _Harry_ was the one who agreed to it!”

“But I used to be his teacher, for crying out loud!” Remus protested. He was beginning to feel a bit hemmed in by the way the other three were looking at him. They clearly expected him to go through with it. 

“You’re not his teacher any longer,” Tonks countered.

“I used to go to school with his father, and I’m over twice his age!”

“It’s only a performance for Dudley,” George pointed out. “The way you’re going on, it sounds as if you’ve been asked to start dating him.”

“Are you actually going to tell me what this ‘performance’ entails?” Remus asked Tonks in resignation. 

“You turn up looking like me—don’t forget to give Dudley a disarming smile. Just say ‘Wotcher, Harry’, followed by a hug and a quick snog in front of Dudley. It’ll be painless!” 

“I know I said that _I’d_ be collecting him, and I _did_ mention the Polyjuice…” Remus was having trouble getting his head around what Tonks was suggesting. “But perhaps he was still shocked at what I had overheard and wasn’t paying attention. I’ll change the letter and tell him to expect someone else.”

“Remus!” Tonks chastised. “I’m sure Harry is well aware that it’s you who’s going to be picking him up. Evidently, he doesn’t think it’s an issue because of the Polyjuice. I bet he’s already bragged about it to Dudley.”

It was like being a student back at Hogwarts, Remus realised, on those occasions when Sirius and James would pester him into doing something he knew full well he shouldn’t. They had always managed to back him into a corner and persuade him to go against his better judgement. Inside, he could hear his conscience screaming at him to just say no and walk away. But he couldn’t do it: he didn’t want to run the risk of upsetting them by being rude. In the end, he figured if he couldn’t come up with a good enough argument that they agreed with, then perhaps they were right, it wasn’t such a big deal. Sirius and James certainly would’ve thought it was funny. He looked up to find Tonks studying him. 

“Look, if you turn up and his aunt and uncle are there, then our little plan won’t go ahead, anyway,” she reasoned. “And it’s not as if you’re taking advantage of him: Harry _has_ agreed to it. _He_ doesn’t mind the situation.”

“And if _I_ mind?”

“You’re a big boy, Remus,” Tonks assured him. “I’m sure you can cope with a bit of acting on Harry’s behalf.”

Remus thought about continuing to argue, but he felt it was pointless. 

“I’m still going to change the letter,” he insisted. “I want to _make sure_ he knows it’s going to be me using Polyjuice, and that he can change his mind if he wants to.”

“Tell him to send Hedwig if there’s a problem,” George suggested. “Then if he didn’t realise, he can let you know, and you can change who you’re impersonating.”

“Okay,” Remus said, trying not to acknowledge what he had been talked into.

“I’ll go and tell Mum that you’ve started on the tea, then,” George said to Tonks and Hermione, and he grinned at Remus as he stood up from the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her what we’ve been talking about. I’ll make out Hermione and Tonks were getting giggly over private girly things.”

While Hermione and Tonks busied themselves getting out mugs and boiling the kettle, Remus just sat there, stunned. What had he got himself into? He was going to collect a sixteen year-old boy and kiss him. The image of what Harry looked like when Remus had been teaching at Hogwarts flashed across his mind. _No, it’s not that bad,_ he tried to console himself. _He’s grown up a lot since then. He’s filled out more; he’s not a kid anymore._ Remus sighed and lifted a hand to rub at his tense brow, with one thought in particular jumping out from amongst the rest: _I hope Hedwig turns up._


	2. Remus Recruited: The Inability to Say No

_“’Every man has his price.’  This is not true.  But for every man there exists a bait which he cannot resist swallowing.”_

_\- Fredrich Wilhelm Nietzsche_

 

***

 

“I didn’t think about what I was saying,” Sirius acknowledged.  He sat on the floor of the dormitory, looking up at Remus on the bed.  “I know I’m a tit, not as big a tit as Snivellus, but I am a tit.  You have every reason to hate me; hell, you have every reason to beat the crap out of me! But I still want us to be friends, and that’s up to you.  I can’t promise not to do something just as stupid in the future; I’ll _try_ not to, but I can’t promise.  You know what I’m like, always acting impulsively, as the moment takes me.”  Sirius paused to run a hand through his hair, giving Remus an apologetic look as he did so.  “I hate that you ended up so badly injured because of me.  I hate that I risked it getting out about you being a werewolf.  But I can’t take it back.  It’s done.  And I won’t beg you to forgive me, because that’s just crass.  All I can say is ‘sorry’.  And I am, Remus.  Really, I am.  If you want me to piss off now, then say so.  Just… let me know if you still want to hang around with me. Whatever you want; I can accept the consequences.”

 

And Remus knew that Sirius had meant every word.  If anything, Sirius was honest.  And brave.  If Remus had ever got himself into a similar scenario, he could never envisage facing up to it in the way Sirius had.  He probably would have grovelled, begged for forgiveness, and made promises to the ends of the earth that it would never happen again—anything to be liked once more.  Sirius could accept that he had no right to receive absolution from Remus, and if Remus wanted to hate him then Sirius would let him.  Sirius wouldn’t compromise his personality for anyone.  If that meant he ended up losing all of his friends because of it, then he would be friendless.  Remus thought this to be unquestionably brave.

 

Bravery was an ambiguous concept to Remus.  Some people, like Sirius, seemed to have it in abundance in all areas of their lives.  Remus felt as if he didn’t possess any.  Certainly, people had told him that they thought he was brave, that he had it in him when it was necessary.  Whenever in the middle of a duel with a Death Eater, or having to deal with a dangerous creature, Remus knew how to switch off and do what had to be done.  But he didn’t view that as bravery; he saw it as survival—you didn’t have to think; you just reacted.  Bravery came from acting even though you had the opportunity to think and to acknowledge all the possible negative outcomes—when you had a choice of whether to act or not.  In situations such as these, Remus felt he couldn’t be any more of a coward.  If there was a way to avoid the negative outcomes, he’d take it.  If there was somewhere to hide from the world, Remus would be there.

 

Right now, on his way to collect Harry, Remus needed somewhere to hide from the world.  Some would argue that what he was doing at this moment was incredibly brave, but Remus would have to point out that he didn’t exactly have much say in the matter.  His last hope had been Hedwig, but Hedwig had never shown up.  Evidently, Harry was quite happy with the arrangements.

_How did I get myself into this?_ Remus asked himself, as he attempted to walk, rather than stagger, from Arabella Figg’s house to number four Privet Drive.  _Bloody high heels! At the rate I’m going, I’ll end up at St. Mungo’s before I get around to ‘collecting’ Harry.  I’m so glad I’m not his teacher anymore._

He’d never used Polyjuice to impersonate a woman before, but the experience of his body changing shape was not completely unlike morphing into another man’s figure.  The worst part had to be the sensation of feeling his most treasured parts reorganise themselves into something quite alien; he had to keep telling himself that they _would_ be coming back, once the potion wore off.  And the clothes would definitely take getting used to.  

 

Tonks had had an evil glint in her eye when she passed over what he would be wearing: high heels, a thong, a bra, an excessively tight top, and a skirt that barely covered the essentials—he hoped he’d remember not to bend over to pick anything up.  She had had to help him with the clasp of the bra, and with getting the damn appendages in the cups, adding, as she did so, “I’m sure it won’t matter too much, if tomorrow, you turn up at the station braless.”  

 

The bra pinched him and felt restrictive around his chest, and the top didn’t help in this respect, only serving to suffocate him further.  The skirt restrained the tops of his legs far too much, making it awkward to walk—which was difficult enough, thanks to the shoes.  The skirt also rode up as he walked; he had to keep stopping in order to tug it down for fear of exposing all—and he _would_ be exposing practically everything, wearing the thong that she had given him.  But, apart from leaving his bum chilly, he had to admit that wearing the thong wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation.  At least she had given him more appropriate clothing to wear for tomorrow’s journey to the station.

 

 _If Kingsley hears about this, he’s going to have my head on a platter_ , Remus fretted, thinking back to what Tonks had said as she and Hermione had put the finishing touches to his hair and make-up.

 

“Watch out for Giles, and no funny business with my body!” Tonks had insisted.  “Except with Harry, of course… And make sure you use your tongue! Dudley will know that something’s up if you don’t put on a performance like I did last time.  Don’t be afraid to get _friendly_.  Harry’s going to be expecting it.”  

 

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he had moaned before Tonks pulled him close for a hug.

 

“Make the most of it, Remus.  I’m sure it’ll do you good.”

 

He knocked tentatively, praying for Harry’s aunt and uncle to answer the door.  The door opened immediately, and Remus was disappointed to see it was just Dudley.

 

“It’s you, again,” Dudley sneered before turning to the stairs.  “Hey pervert! Your girlfriend’s here!”

 

Harry came down, carrying his trunk and looking a bit uneasy.  He glared at Dudley before catching Remus’s eye.  Remus grinned, mainly in an effort to give himself some confidence.  

 

“Wotcher, Harry,” Remus called out, and Harry smiled back, appearing to relax slightly.  

 

Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and freed his hands of the trunk.  _It’s now or never,_ Remus told himself as he reached to bring Harry close and give him a squeeze.  Harry played along, hugging him back.  Remus took a deep breath, leant back slightly and then moved his face towards Harry’s.  

 

 _I can’t believe I’m doing this._ Remus’s thoughts began to race as they closed in for the kiss.  For the first time in weeks, he couldn’t escape them.  It was either acknowledge them or throw himself into what he was doing at the moment, and he was sure the latterwould not be appropriate.  

 

 _It’s certainly an odd sensation, kissing with somebody else’s lips,_ he considered, trying to distract himself by comparing the way this body reacted to the way his own would have.  He felt very relieved that Harry wouldn’t be made physically aware of just how much Remus was enjoying what they were doing.  Harry’s arms then gradually made their way further around his—Tonks’s—body before holding on more firmly.  

 

 _It’s been so long since… And this is so… nice.  Why does he have to be sixteen?_ Remus absently let his hands run along the muscles of Harry’s back. _He’s definitely filled out more than I’d imagined.  But I used to go to school with his father, for Christ’s sake!  I used to sleep with his godfather!_ — _true, that_ was _over fifteen years ago._ Remus could feel fingertips making their way underneath his top, and he gasped at the unexpected contact of skin.  _It’s too late to do anything about it now, and it’s only a prank on_ _Dudley_ _’s behalf, nothing more.  I’m not about to show Harry up in front of_ _Dudley_ _.  Besides, he knows what he’s doing, and this is only a kiss… Oh! My god! I can feel his… He’s hard!_

Remus snapped out of his complacency towards the situation and pulled away from Harry’s lips.  Harry looked into his eyes and gulped.  He was flushed, and Remus could imagine that he looked just as bad.

 

“Ugh, you two just get worse and worse,” Dudley sneered from the lounge doorway, clearly ready to run if necessary.  He looked between Harry and Remus, and he seemed to sense the underlying awkwardness between them; it was a weakness that Dudley was only too keen to take advantage of.  He looked at Remus and spoke again, “Did he tell you that I overheard _everything_ that night you stayed over?”

 

“Dudley!” Harry shouted, the colour instantly draining from his face.  He grabbed his coat and owl cage, and picked up the trunk once more, herding Remus out of the front door.

 

As soon as it shut behind them, Remus asked about Dudley’s comment.

 

“I… er, please don’t tell anyone,” Harry pleaded as they began to walk down the driveway, toward Arabella Figg’s house.  “I don’t want to get her into trouble.”

 

“As long as _I_ can wind Tonks up about it,” Remus jested, and Harry grinned.  “I’ll get the details out of you, later.  Here, let me carry something…” Remus trailed off as he leaned over to take Harry’s trunk, noticing the empty cage that Harry was holding.  He gestured towards it.  “Harry, where’s Hedwig?”

 

“I don’t know,” Harry said.  “She’s been gone for the past four days.”

 

"So, you couldn't tell me... to change the arrangements?" Remus felt his stomach turn, and he tried not to think about how much Harry _hadn’t_ wanted that kiss.  Did he force Harry? Did he push himself on Harry too much? _But whatever Harry’s initial thoughts, he had certainly seemed to make the most of it,_ Remus acknowledged.

 

“No, I couldn’t,” Harry admitted.  “And the Dursleys won’t let me make any outgoing telephone calls.  I did try once, when they went out yesterday, but I couldn’t get through.  I was hoping that Hermione might phone me back.”

 

“We’ve had problems with the phone at Grimmauld Place for the past couple of days.  Mr. Weasley was still trying to fix it when I left this morning.”  Remus stopped briefly to look Harry in the eye.  “You weren’t paying attention, were you, when I told you the details?”

 

Harry shook his head.  “I was a little bit… unsettled, after I realised that Hermione was no longer on the phone.”

 

“ _You_ were unsettled?” Remus said with a laugh.  “Tonks didn’t warn me when she handed me the phone.  I must say, it was a bit of a revelation to hear all that coming from you.”

 

Harry blushed and bowed his head.

 

“Harry, don’t get all embarrassed about it,” Remus insisted.  “I’m sorry I got you into this situation.  Tonks, Hermione, and George badgered me into it, and I… I thought you were okay with the arrangements because I hadn’t received a message to say otherwise—”

 

“George knows?” Harry asked incredulously, his face clearly showing that he wasn’t happy with this piece of news.

 

“Look, you shouldn’t have to feel awkward,” Remus said.  “If there are going to be any digs, then it will be me who’s going to bear the brunt of it.  As far as you were concerned, you were as good as kissing Tonks.”

 

To Remus’s surprise this only seemed to leave Harry blushing even more.

 

“Harry? What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s just that it was… different.”

 

Harry glanced up, and Remus frowned to show that he didn’t understand what Harry was implying.

 

“I suppose it’s because you _looked_ the same as Tonks; I expected it to _be_ the same—the kiss, that is," Harry explained.  "But it wasn’t.  It _felt_ like I was kissing somebody else in her body.”

 

“Am I _that_ bad at it?”

 

“No! It was… unexpected… nice.”

 

“Better than Tonks?” Remus asked, unable to resist, and he laughed when Harry nodded.  “Can I tell her?”

 

“Okay, as long as you promise not to tell anyone else,” Harry insisted.  “I’d never live that sort of an admission down at school!”  

 

The conversation drifted to Harry’s life at Hogwarts as they walked the rest of the way to Arabella’s house.  When they arrived, Remus gratefully changed his shoes before they travelled by Floo powder to the Green Dragon.  They arrived in the smaller of the two public bars at the inn, which was practically empty.  Walking over to the bar, Remus called out for Giles, who came rushing out to meet them.  

 

“Tonks! I wasn’t expecting _you_ ,” Giles enthused, and Remus opened his mouth to correct Giles, but he didn’t get the chance.  “And you’re Harry? It’s good to meet you at last.  Don’t worry; I won’t give you any of that hero-worship nonsense.  I bet you’ve had enough of that in your time, eh?”

 

Harry smiled gratefully.

 

“Tonks, my lovely,” Giles continued, apparently without stopping to breathe.  “I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a problem with the room.  You see, ol’ Fudge has made a last minute booking.  The room you were going to get… Well, he always has it, and I couldn’t exactly tell him what I was going to use it for.  Don’t you dare tell anyone, mind; he wouldn’t appreciate me spreading gossip about him and his wife only ever staying in a _twin_ room!  But this has left me in a bit of a dilemma, seeing as it’s you, Tonks.  We’re fully booked up, apart from the one room, and I’m not too sure it’ll be appropriate for you and Harry to share it.  If you want, you could always let Harry have it to himself.  I don’t mind making space for you in _my_ bed.”

 

Harry started to laugh, and Giles glanced over and winked at him.  “I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for Tonks, but she won’t play ball.  Looks like my luck could be in tonight, though!”  He blew Remus a kiss.  “I swear I never set this up; I never knew _you’d_ be turning up.  But I _really_ can’t let you share the same room as Harry: it just wouldn’t be appropriate, not at his age!”

 

“Giles!” Remus practically shouted in his attempt to get a word in edgeways.  “I’m not Tonks.”

 

“You’re not?” Giles couldn’t hide the disappointment from his face.  “Oh! So who _are_ you?”

 

“I thought Albus arranged all this with you.  Didn’t he tell you who’d be coming?”

 

“Remus?” Giles asked tentatively, studying the image of Tonks before him.

 

Remus nodded.

 

“Oops!” Giles grinned.  “Well, you can’t blame me for trying.  Anyway, it’s good to see you, Remus.  I must say, I don’t think you’ve ever looked quite so ravishing! If you want to continue taking the Polyjuice all night, I still wouldn’t say no to having you in my bed!”

 

“Giles!” Remus pleaded.  “Can we just go up to the room? And no matter what’s wrong with it, we’ve still got to share.  I’m not allowed to leave Harry; I’ve got to keep an eye on him, just in case anything happens.”

 

“Spoilsport,” Giles moaned as he bent down to retrieve a key from behind the bar.  Standing up, he motioned towards a door on one side of the room.  “This way.  You’re on the second floor.

 

“That Polyjuice will wear off, won’t it?” Giles asked as they followed him up the stairs.  “I still don’t think it’s very fair to expect a boy Harry’s age to sleep next to you, not when you’re looking like that.”

 

“Yes, it will,” Remus confirmed.  “I’ve got about half an hour left before I change back.”

 

“Good, good.  Well, here we are then,” Giles announced, stopping to unlock a door. 

 

The door opened into a tiny room that barely had enough space for a double bed.  The only section of floor that could be seen was about a foot wide and ran alongside the bed to another door in the far wall. 

 

“That there’s the toilet and shower,” Giles said, pointing to the second door.  “You see why it wouldn’t have done to let Harry stay here with Tonks?”

 

Remus smiled and nodded.  

 

“I’ve only been able to cast a Silencing Charm on the room,” Giles informed them as they covered the sparse section of carpet with Harry’s belongings and Remus’s overnight bag.  “Anything fancier and it’d attract too much attention.  I’ll bring up some food in a bit.  You’ll have to eat it on the bed.”

 

Remus sat sideways on the bed, leaning against the wall and facing the door.  He watched as Harry clambered across to have a look in the shower room.  From where he was, Remus could see that it was just as pokey as the bedroom.  With the toilet, sink, and shower, there was just enough room for a person to turn around.  

 

“It’s not exactly the Ritz,” Remus joked.

 

“It’s bigger than the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley’s,” Harry pointed out as he sat next to Remus a little bit further down the bed.  “And I’ve never stayed in a room with an en-suite bathroom before.”  

 

“Speaking of the Dursleys… what was it thatDudley overheard?” Remus chuckled, and Harry blushed.  

 

“More than we realised,” Harry admitted.  “Tonks _had_ cast a Silencing Charm, but we forgot that the window was open.”

 

“I bet Giles would be envious.”

 

Only a few minutes later, a soft tap came from the door, and then it clicked open.  Giles pushed the door open fully with his elbow and walked in carrying a tray.  On it were two plates of steaming fried fish, sautéed potatoes and green beans, and two mugs of butterbeer.  He carefully laid it on the bed, looking a little flustered as he did so.

 

“Remus, do you realise it’s not very ladylike to sit like that?” Giles asked.  “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

 

It was only then that Remus noticed he’d been sitting with one leg outstretched and the other bent at the knee, giving Giles a glorious view under Tonks’s skirt.  His leg snapped straight to lie flat on the bed.  Feeling the bed start to wobble, he looked over to see Harry laughing.

 

“Careful, you’ll spill the drinks,” Remus chastened lightly, before calling out a word of thanks as Giles left.  

 

“Tonks wouldn’t be impressed if she knew you’d been flashing to Giles,” Harry said with a grin as they began to eat.

 

“No, I dare say she wouldn’t.  So _please_ don’t tell her.”

 

“Are you sure you’re not going to…” Harry raised his eyebrows suggestively and motioned towards the door with his head.  “He seems very keen.”

 

“Harry!” Remus exclaimed, trying to restrain his own smile, but failing. 

 

They continued the light banter throughout the meal, with Harry joking about Giles, and Remus making a few comments about Tonks in retaliation.  Harry seemed a lot more comfortable around Remus than he had ever been, and Remus assumed that Harry was only this relaxed in his company because he had been alone all summer and had missed having someone to talk to.  But no matter what the reasons, Remus was enjoying the easy way they were relating to each other. 

 

Only as Remus was finishing off his last mouthful did he realise what he should’ve done earlier.  

 

He started to feel uncomfortable—more than previously—in Tonks’s clothes, and looked up to find Harry was staring at him, with a sadistic smirk.  All of a sudden, a loud _rip!_ could be heard as Remus’s shoulders split the fabric of Tonks’s t-shirt, and Harry sniggered.  _Oh dear, I think I’d better get_ — Any further thoughts quickly fled from Remus’s mind as the sensation of pain rippled through him from his groin.  Tonks’s thong was too small, and whatever it was made of was _far_ too durable.  His eyes widened, and his jaw opened in a silent scream.

 

“I… I’m…” he stammered, before giving up trying to talk.  Instead, he grabbed his bag and staggered into the cramped shower room.  

 

As soon as the door was shut, Remus ripped the garment off and sunk to the floor in a heap, nursing the tender parts of his anatomy.  He sat there for a while as he waited for the soreness to subside, feeling it smart in time with his own heartbeat.  

 

“Remus, are you all right?” Harry called through the door, sounding worried.

 

“I will be,” Remus croaked back, his eyes still watering, adding, “I hope,” under his breath.

 

After taking a few deep breaths, he stood up and pulled himself into the shower.  He tried to soothe himself with the jet of cool water, washing himself down as he did so.  Having gingerly dried himself, he opened his bag and pulled out his pyjamas.  It was a bit of a struggle to pull them on, as he was still feeling quite tender.  Afterwards, he picked up the remainder of Tonks’s ripped clothing and cast a Repairing Charm.  

 

Remus shuffled though the doorway, and dropping his bag back on the floor, he carefully climbed back onto the bed to resume his earlier sitting position.  Harry was looking at him in sympathy.

 

“I think I’ve learnt a very important lesson tonight—” Remus began to say.

 

“If you want to wear women’s underwear, then you need to get a bigger size!” Harry finished off for him with a chuckle.

 

When Giles returned to collect the tray he was disappointed to see that the Polyjuice had worn off.  Harry couldn’t resist filling him in on the details of Remus’s transformation, which Giles found highly amusing.  Remus hadn’t appreciated Harry’s openness, but he soon changed his mind when he realised Harry had gained him a free glass of firewhiskey and a jar of emollient cream.

  

Remus sat there, sipping his drink and feeling much better after having briefly returned to the shower room to soothe himself with the cream.

 

“Have you ever had to take Polyjuice to impersonate a woman before?” Harry asked.

 

“No, and I think this experience has just about put me off for life.”

 

“What’s it like? I mean… does it feel very different?”  

 

“A little disconcerting at first, when you realise that certain parts of you are no longer there.   But it’s still the same disorientating feeling of not being in your own skin.  Have you ever taken Polyjuice?”

 

“Once, during my second year at Hogwarts.  We wanted to find out if Malfoy knew who the heir of Slytherin was.  Hermione prepared it, but she ended up putting a cat hair in hers by mistake.”

 

“Second year? Hermione certainly knows what she’s doing—cat hair notwithstanding.”  Remus finished his drink off and placed the glass on the floor, flinching as he bent too far over.  “You know that odd feeling you get from looking out of another person’s body?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“Well, it’s like that, only you’ve got a different shape.  I don’t know how else to explain it.”

 

“Does it feel odd to kiss someone in a different body?”

 

“Er…” Remus was thrown for a moment; he had managed to put the memory of the kiss out of his mind, up until this point.  He tried to be as ambiguous with his answer as possible, to avoid spluttering out ‘I felt just as turned on as I would’ve done in my own body.’  Instead, he opted for, “A little, but the nerve endings don’t appear to be wired up that differently.”  _I don’t think I want to be having this discussion_ , he worried.  _Just don’t ask me if I enjoyed it._

 

Harry yawned, and Remus took the opportunity to prompt him to get ready for bed.  Remus then got himself comfortable under the covers, retrieving his book and starting to read while Harry took a shower. 

 

When Harry returned, in huge, striped pyjamas that looked as if they once belonged to Vernon Dursley, Remus felt a sudden shift in tension in the atmosphere of the room.  

 

“Harry, are you okay?” he asked.  “It’s not a problem is it?  Us sharing this bed?”

 

“Not exactly...”

 

“What is it then? I promise you don’t have to worry about me jumping you.”

 

“I didn’t think _that_ ,” Harry chuckled a little awkwardly.  “It’s just that I’ve have had some… _intense_ dreams lately.  Dudley’s been very eager to tell me all about the things I’ve been saying in my sleep.”

 

“Nightmares?”

 

“Er, no.  Not _that_ sort of dream.”

 

“I see.  Well, if you wake me up with any lurid noises, or moaning anyone’s name, I’ll be sure to give you a jab in the ribs.  And if it makes you feel any better, I promise I won’t repeat anything you say to anyone, even Tonks, no matter how tempted I might be.”

 

“Thanks,” Harry said, still looking sheepish.  “Will you tell me what I say?”

 

“If you want me to,” Remus sighed.  “Does it worry you _that_ much, then?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“Don’t let it.  It’s not as if you’ve got any control over your dreams, and I’m quite capable of respecting your privacy.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

They both settled down in the bed, with Harry reaching out to switch off the light.  For a while, Remus could feel Harry tossing and turning next to him, until Remus drifted off into a deep slumber himself.

 

As he slept, an image came to him from his days at Hogwarts.  He was alone with Sirius, before they had become close.  They were talking and jesting with each other.  He didn’t realise it at the time, but looking back, it was obvious that they were subconsciously flirting.  Both of them were constantly pushing the conversation further, into more risqué territories.  And they were always trying to trigger an emotional response in the other; embarrassment seemed to be the easiest one to go for.  It seemed to help make them feel closer than they actually were.  

 

The image then shifted to a time when they were closer, much closer.  There was the sensation of Sirius pressed up against Remus’s back, with hot breath ghosting over the nape of his neck.  This had been a regular position of theirs, whether it was when Sirius had snuck into Remus’s bed at Hogwarts, or when Remus stayed over at Sirius’s flat.  It was a way of snuggling up together that Remus thoroughly enjoyed; he loved the feeling of having this much physical contact with Sirius.  

 

They lay there, spooned, with Sirius wrapping an arm over Remus and running a hand across his chest.  Sirius lazily rubbed himself up against Remus in a most delectable spot, and Remus let out a pleasurable moan, shifting his hips backwards to create more friction.  He could feel Sirius’s lips softly moving along his hairline as Sirius’s hand slid lower over his abdomen.

 

“Mmm… Remus...”  

 

The name was slurred, as if Sirius was half-asleep.  Only it wasn’t Sirius’s voice.

 

Groggily prising his eyes open, Remus could see that he wasn’t in the dormitory at Hogwarts, or in the bed at Sirius’s flat.  The memory stung him, and he winced, realising just how long it had been since an episode such as that one had really occurred.  But the warm body was still there, grinding exquisitely against him.

 

 _Harry…_ he realised suddenly.

Trying to ignore how good it felt, he attempted to shift round, but his movement only triggered Harry’s arm to tighten around his body, holding him fast, and Remus barely succeeded in half-twisting his shoulders.  In the greyness of the room, Remus could see that Harry was still sleeping.

 

“Harry!” he called gently.  “Harry, wake up!”

 

Harry’s eyes half-opened, and Remus knew that Harry was not completely awake.  To Remus’s surprise, Harry abruptly leaned forward and pressed their lips together before Remus had the opportunity to pull away.  Remus gasped as Harry’s hand suddenly shifted downwards, grasping at Remus’s erection, which was tenting the material of his pyjamas.  After only a few seconds, Harry had woken fully and soon became well aware of the situation.  His eyes widened suddenly as he drew his mouth away from Remus’s.  Remus could only stare back at him, still in shock—in as much shock as Harry seemed to be experiencing.  They both froze, and time seemed to stop.  

 

Remus felt torn inside.  He knew he should be pushing Harry away, and that this was in no way appropriate.  He could imagine what other people would say if they knew of the predicament Remus now found himself in, and how disappointed they would be with him for not instantly rectifying the situation.  But he also felt weak: the memory of Sirius was far too fresh in his mind.  It would be so easy to let himself go, to just sink into the feeling of being so close to someone after all this time.  

 

He knew that whatever decision he came to would require a small amount of bravery on his part: pushing Harry away and making him cope with the embarrassment of the situation as well as rejection, or Remus feeling as if he was taking advantage of Harry by making the first move.  He didn’t know if he could accept the responsibility of making this choice; he couldn’t accept the potential consequences, either way.  So, he took the coward’s way out.  He lay there, doing nothing, letting Harry decide what to do next.

 

In the space that followed, Remus felt his cock twitch automatically against Harry’s hand, once… twice… and Remus knew his face had reddened in the darkness at his uncontrolled reaction.  But it was this movement that appeared to spur Harry to action.  Remus could do nothing but watch as Harry’s face slowly descended to kiss him once more.  Only one thought passed through Remus’s mind as their lips met: _I’ll probably be going to hell for this._


	3. Remus Reinstated: The Ability to Prioritise

_“For the ordinary man is passive.  Within a narrow circle…he feels himself master of his fate, but against major events he is as helpless as against the elements.  So far from endeavouring to influence the future, he simply lies down and lets things happen to him.”_

_George Orwell_

 

***

 

Back when he and Sirius were lovers, Remus had considered to himself, on several occasions, the notion of Sirius publicly settling down.  But it was always with someone better: someone who was not a werewolf.  Then, Sirius would have had the opportunity to be as open as he chose to be about all aspects of his life, without having to deal with any repercussions.  

 

Remus had worried about the Ministry keeping tabs on his activities if they ever found out he was involved with someone.  Because he was only classed as a creature, the Ministry thought that Remus’s love life was their business.  They proclaimed that, if he were to be involved with someone—and Remus had no intentions of letting them think he was anything but single—the person concerned was at risk and the Ministry would be able to “offer a certain amount of protection and support”.  Remus knew that this was just a façade though, just an excuse to make sure he wasn’t going to be procreating any time soon.  

 

The risk of the Ministry getting involved in their business would no doubt hamper the efforts of the Order.  And what if Sirius was revealed to be an Animagus because of his relationship with Remus, because of Remus’s condition?  He hated the thought that he had the potential to be a catalyst for negative change in Sirius’s life.

 

“I don’t haveto tell the world,” Sirius had insisted, trying to placate Remus’s sense of guilt.  “I’d like to, but I don’t _have_ to.”  

 

For a while, Remus would warm inside, thanking whatever gods had seen fit to grant him with this opportunity.  But could he really hold Sirius back for a whole lifetime?  Whatever way Remus looked at it, he _was_ a restriction, especially when Sirius was offered a position at the Ministry. 

 

“We should end this,” Remus had suggested weakly, even though he didn’t mean a word of it; he wanted to keep hold of their relationship more than anything.  He only said it because he truly believed it would be better for Sirius if they weren’t together.  “You can’t risk your job because of me.”

 

“Don’t be so bloody melodramatic!”

 

“I’m not.  Okay, maybe a little.  But even though they won’t be able to fire you, if they find out about me—about us—I can guarantee there’ll be more than a few people at the Ministry who’ll make your life difficult because I’m a werewolf.  They won’t trust you; you’ll miss out.  I don’t want that.”

 

“I’d rather have you than have the opportunity for promotion.”

 

“Then we’ll just have to make doubly sure that our relationship is kept a secret, so you can have both,” Remus conceded.  “Just being friends with me is going to cause you to be looked at with suspicion as it is.”

 

Holding himself back was an alien concept to Sirius, but from the beginning, it became an essential part of their relationship, especially whilst they had still been at school.  

 

One of the memories that Remus occasionally re-lived within his dreams concerned the beginnings of their relationship.  It was of the morning they had to return to Hogwarts for their seventh year, and they were spending their remaining time alone, in bed, at Sirius’s flat.  At that point in time, Sirius had wanted to tell the world, and he had yet to fully understand Remus’s reluctance to do so.

 

“Are you ashamed of me?” Sirius had asked as they held each other.

 

“No.  Just scared,” Remus admitted.  And he was.  Petrified.  “What if they separate us? Move one of us out of the dorm? What if the Ministry chooses to get involved?  It’s probably classified as their business when a person decides to date a creature like me.  What if they find another excuse to interfere? We’re still at school; we’re not independent, yet—”

 

“But we _could_ be independent.  NEWT’s aren’t obligatory.”

 

“But I would like to finish mine, without us having to be separated.”

 

Sirius’s face softened.  “Just… just let me tell James, at least.”

 

“This is so new, Sirius,” Remus explained.  He was worried that someone could force them apart before they had the chance to really begin.  And he was also trying to comprehend the fact that he was finally getting himself into a relationship; he had spent so long assuming that it would never happen, with anyone.  “I want to get my head around it all, first.  Let’s at least see how it goes.  I don’t want to tell James and then find out it isn’t working.”

 

“You don’t think we stand much of a chance, then.”

 

“No, it’s not that… I’m just trying to… I don’t know.  I’m just a little bit apprehensive, about everything.  If no one knows and it doesn’t work out, then it’ll be… less painful, for both of us,” Remus stammered, trying to think of a way to remove the frown from Sirius’s face.  “And I hardly think it’ll be fair on James, expecting him to get used to the idea when neither of us have got used to it, yet.  Why don’t we wait until Christmas and then see how things are?”

 

“Christmas…” Sirius repeated, curling his lip in disapproval, before stating adamantly, “Halloween.”

 

“All right then, Halloween.  In the meantime, let’s just make the most of this morning and wait to see how things go.”

 

Sirius smiled to show the decision they had reached was okay with him and leant back on the bed, draping himself around Remus.  In response, Remus snuggled up in the tangle of Sirius’s limbs, trying to imprint the sensation into his body and mind.  He didn’t know when they’d have the opportunity to do this again.  For the moment, Remus wanted nothing more than to spend every last minute in bed revelling in the smell of sweat hanging in the air, and the bristling sensation of hairy legs rubbing up against each other.  

 

But all too soon, Sirius decided it was time to get moving.

 

“Sirius,” Remus protested as Sirius prised himself from their entangled limbs.  Originally, at Remus’s objection, Sirius had bent down for one more kiss before insisting on getting up—and Remus’s memory of this had never altered, until today.  This time, there was no kiss; he felt Sirius’s body tense.  

 

“Stay,” Remus pleaded, holding on tighter as the image began to fade.  Along with the fading image came the resurrection of knowledge that Sirius would never be coming back to his bed.  

 

***

 

“Sirius,” he called out once more, his voice breaking.  But there was no one to call out to now, only the figment of a body that had once—all too briefly—been his.  A figment that, even now, through the dawning awareness of Remus from his dream, was teasing him, pulling him closer, holding him once more.  Remus couldn’t hold back from letting out a whimper.

 

“Shh,” the figment soothed.

 

Remus shifted, and the image refused to dissipate.  Instead, arms enfolded Remus more firmly, rocking him gently, hands stroking him.  He opened his eyes and squinted at the daylight streaming in through the tall window, hearing the few city birds chattering outside.  He held on tightly to the naked body surrounding him, relishing the feeling of limbs being entwined together, inhaling the musky scent of body odour and stale sex, gently pressing his lips against the sweaty skin before him.  

 

_Harry…_ he realised.

He lifted his head to look up at Harry, to assess his reaction to their night together.  Harry was smiling at him, with what Remus could only describe as compassion.  Remus felt his cheeks redden slightly as he realised his face was damp from a few stray tears.

 

“I guess I’m not the only one who really misses Sirius,” Harry said softly, and Remus wondered how Harry knew what had upset him.  “You were calling out his name, just before you woke up,” he added at Remus’s bewildered expression.  “I never knew that you and he were…”

 

Remus’s head dipped once more, to rest his forehead on Harry’s chest.  “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”  He could feel Harry’s hand gently stroking the back of his head, calming him as he spoke.  

 

“It’s okay.  But why didn’t he ever mention it? Didn’t he trust me?” 

 

“That wasn’t the reason; he did trust you.  It’s just that there wasn’t anything for him to tell.  We hadn’t been together for a long time—not since he escaped from Azkaban, anyway,” Remus said, sighing as he rolled over onto his back, an arm stretched up underneath his head.  “We didn’t want the same thing, anymore…. I still dream about him, from time to time, though.  Seeing him again, after so long, and finding out that he had been innocent brought the old feelings back up to the surface.”

 

Harry leaned over to gently run his lips across Remus’s face, and Remus instinctively tilted his head up for more.  

 

“Mmm,” Remus murmured, looking up through half-lidded eyes and catching Harry’s chin in his hand, holding him still for a moment to place a chaste kiss on his lips.  He followed this by gently working his way along Harry’s jaw line and across to his throat.  Harry pushed their bodies closer together and began to kiss the accessible part of Remus’s shoulder.  Remus felt a pang of tenderness wash through him and promptly told himself that he shouldn’t be feeling this way towards a sixteen year old.  He buried his nose in the soft skin of Harry’s neck, breathing deeply and dragging his lips downward, indulging in skin, sweat, desire, sex.  These were… as acceptable as it was going to get.  

 

“We should be getting up,” Remus murmured unconvincingly, while engrossed in the taste of Harry’s flesh.  “Or at least, get some clothes on before Giles turns up with the breakfast.”

 

Remus still made no effort to separate himself from Harry, letting his hands wander and his lips hungrily map out the contours of neck.  In the end, it was Harry who pulled back reluctantly, untangling himself from Remus’s grasp.  Placing a kiss on the bridge of Remus’s nose, Harry stood up and padded to the shower, chucking a pair of discarded pyjamas in Remus’s face as he did so.  

 

Remus pulled on the pyjamas and made sure the room didn’t look as if the pair of them had been up to anything untoward before he nestled back down under the covers.  Although he believed Harry’s presence had somehow triggered the dream, after waking up from it, Remus had thoroughly enjoyed the comforting feel of another body first thing in the morning.  He had no intention of getting up until he absolutely had to, knowing it would break the spell of utter contentment that he was currently feeling; it had been many years since he had last felt like this.  Instead, he surrounded himself in the scent of last night, avoiding any thoughts of inappropriate behaviour. 

 

The realities of breakfast and showers were soon upon him, though.  In passing to get to the shower, Remus couldn’t help but notice that Harry was now taller than Sirius had ever been, and this helped him to further ignore the realities of Harry’s age.  He washed and then sat eating, wrapped in a dressing gown, not needing to dress until after he’d taken the Polyjuice.  Remus had expected the conversation to become stilted, but Harry was as relaxed as ever in his company—even more so than previously—and this helped Remus to continue mentally sidestepping the obvious moral issues.  

 

“I really enjoyed this… last night,” Harry admitted in between mouthfuls of toast, during a brief lull in their banter.  “It’d be nice to be able to do it again,” he added tentatively.

 

“I enjoyed it, too,” Remus said, smiling warmly.  _But I have nothing to offer him,_ he acknowledged, his smile fading slightly.  _This isn’t something that we could easily indulge in again._ “But another opportunity like this might never arise,” he added.

 

“I know.  But if we do get the opportunity, we _will_ take it?”

 

“I’d like that very much.  Nothing short of me becoming your teacher again would make me turn it down.”

 

They agreed to stay in touch while Harry was at Hogwarts, both of them accepting that the letters couldn’t be too personal as the risk of others reading them would be too great.  The subject of Hedwig’s disappearance was then discussed, and Remus offered to help find her, once Harry had been safely escorted to the station.  Talk of the station reminded them both of the inevitable encounter with the others.

 

“They’re going to be waiting at the station for us… Hermione, George, and Tonks,” Harry pointed out.  “They’ll want to know what happened at the Dursleys.”

 

“Tonks won’t be there.  She’s doing a job for Kingsley,” Remus said.  He didn’t know if he could handle the inevitable questions about yesterday’s kiss.  It would take a lot of self-control not to laugh or blush profusely, as neither would be conducive to keeping the entirety of last night’s activities a secret.  “George—and Fred, no doubt—will both be itching to have a dig at our expense.  I can imagine them coming out with some choice comments without realising it.”

 

“I hope I can keep a straight face.”

 

“We could always tell them that Dudley wasn’t there,” Remus suggested lightly, not wanting to force Harry into lying.  “We could tell them that we never went through with it in the first place.”

            

To Remus’s relief, Harry agreed that it was a good idea.  They grinned at each other before Remus stood and moved to retrieve the Polyjuice vial from his bag. 

 

“Remus,” Harry said before Remus lifted the vial to his lips.  

 

Remus turned to suddenly find himself with his arms full of Harry.  He let himself wallow in their embrace, moaning around Harry’s mouth.  A knock on the door caused them to pull apart with a jolt, and Giles came in to collect the breakfast tray, completely unaware of what he had interrupted—unaware of the way Remus’s heart was currently pounding against his chest, or the way Remus’s stomach had promptly taken a vacation up towards his mouth.

Once Giles had left, Remus pulled Harry’s face towards his for one more, brief kiss before drinking the Polyjuice.

 

“Is there anyone at Hogwarts you’re interested in?” Remus asked as he dressed in Tonks’s clothes, trying to sound generally interested and not possessive.   

 

“Er,” Harry stuttered.

 

“It might seem a bit of an odd question, after what’s happened, but it’d make me feel less guilty if there was someone you could get involved with,” Remus said, giving up on the bra and stuffing it back into his bag.  “Harry, I don’t want to patronise you, but… just promise me you won’t put your life on hold, because it might never happen again.”

 

“I know.  To be honest, Remus, I’m not interested in serious relationships at the moment, although I have bought Hermione some knickers for her birthday,” Harry admitted.  “I got them because of a comment I made on the phone—the first time I wound up Dudley.  I don’t know how she’ll take it.”  

 

“I think she might be up for a bit of fun, just as long as you don’t interfere with her studying!  You certainly seemed to be having a positive effect on the phone last week…”

 

“And what about you?  Were you resistant to my charms?”

 

“Not at all! Luckily, I was sitting down at the table.  No one was aware just how strongly I reacted to your… _descriptive_ words.”

 

They shared one last kiss, in Tonks’s body, and then gathered their things together before going down to the street, saying goodbye to Giles on their way out.  Walking in a contemplative silence, Remus built himself up for when they would be in front of the others.

 

They arrived at the station to see Hermione waiting while Molly Weasley said goodbye to Ron and Ginny.   Fred and George Weasley were also there, with Hedwig perched on Fred’s shoulder. 

 

“Hello, Harry.  Hello, Remus,” Fred and George greeted in unison with a knowing smile.  

 

“Sorry about the owl, Harry—” George began.

 

“It turns out she that was in our room all along—” Fred continued.

 

“From when you sent that note to Hermione—”

 

“She must have flown in to help herself to some of Pig’s owl treats and ended up getting stuck in there—”

 

“We’d commandeered the owl treats from Ron—”

 

“For an experiment—”

 

“We didn’t have a clue about Hedwig—”

 

“Honest!” They both chorused, and Remus knew they were both blatantly lying.  

 

“It didn’t matter anyway,” Remus lied back.  “Dudley wasn’t there.  No display necessary.”

 

George, Fred, and Hermione all looked a bit disappointed by this news, leaving Ron and Mrs. Weasley in confusion.

 

“I’ll tell you on the train,” Remus overheard Hermione mutter to Ron under her breath.

 

They said their goodbyes, with Remus having to consciously keep himself from touching Harry in an overtly familiar way.  Remus then began walking back to Grimmauld Place with Molly, Fred, and George.  

 

“So, Dudley really wasn’t about?”

 

“No, George, he wasn’t,” Remus insisted.  He turned to Molly Weasley’s baffled expression.  “Molly, don’t worry about it.  Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

 

Tonks was at the house when they arrived, and she was not impressed that their little scheme hadn’t come to anything; Remus couldn’t help but be amused at her frustration that she had nothing to tease him about.  He was sorely tempted to mention what Dudley had revealed to him of her night with Harry, but he couldn’t think of a believable reason for him to have that information, without it looking as if Harry had told him.  When he mentioned the owl-napping, Tonks let it slip that Fred and George had also been responsible for the phone line not working at Grimmauld Place over the past few days.  The twins had certainly tried to cover all contingencies.

 

Remus received his first letter within a couple of days of Harry’s return to Hogwarts.  The letter was fairly non-descript, but Harry was evidently still keen for them to keep in touch, even though they wouldn’t be able to write anything that could reveal what they had shared.  Harry had implied that he had been getting on with Hermione really well, and that he had decided on definitely giving her the knickers for her birthday.  Remus gave a weak smile as he read this, reminding himself that Harry should be seeing people his own age.  

 

It was better this way: Remus didn’t have to worry about holding Harry back.  If Harry’s involvement with Hermione ended up becoming serious, Remus had to accept it; silly pangs of jealously were irrelevant.  For now, Harry wanted to continue writing to him; that was enough.  He started on a reply immediately, but it took him three attempts to come up with one that he felt happy with—one that couldn’t be viewed as inappropriate if seen by any of Harry’s friends, but also, one that wasn’t too cold and aloof for Harry.  

 

Over the next few nights, Remus woke up to the same dream that had woken him at the Green Dragon.  This didn’t bother him too much when they occurred during the night, as he had the memory of his time with Harry to soothe him back to sleep afterwards.  It was waking up alone in the mornings that he didn’t like.  Whenever daylight arrived, he had to get up, not wanting to stay in the empty bed.

 

The morning after the full moon, Remus groggily made his way to the kitchen, with the intention of getting a cup of tea before going back upstairs to sleep.  He felt off, not just because of the after effects from the full moon, but also because of another dream.  This time it was of another occasion when Sirius had tried to ease Remus’s anxieties over their relationship.  Sirius’s words were still echoing around his head as he clattered around the kitchen, rummaging through the drawer for a spoon.  

 

“You want more, for me? Remus, don’t you see? What we have is good enough.  It’s more than what a lot of people have; we have each other.”

 

“We have each other.”  _Had_ each other….  It stopped being ‘good enough’ after Azkaban.  It… Remus was pulled out of his dream inspired musings by a tapping at the window.  He smiled; it was Hedwig with another letter from Harry to add to the first.

 

 

Dear Remus,

I hope you are well, and things are going okay with, well, you know, all the things that you’re involved with.  Thanks for your last reply; it’s always good to hear from you.  

Hermione took her birthday present really well, and we met on her birthday under the willow by the lake.  I’ll spare you the details... 

Ron has managed to remain completely oblivious!  Hermione says she feels a bit guilty about keeping it from Ron, and I get the impression that she wants to make our ‘relationship’ official, soon.  I’m not too sure about this.  I mean, I do really like Hermione, but I’ve been thinking of it as just a bit of fun.  Do you have any advice on how I can deal with this? I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I don’t have any intentions of dating or settling down with anyone, especially with the you-know-what about me and You-Know-Who.  At the moment, there doesn’t seem much point in investing in anything long-term.  

The new Defence teacher that I mentioned briefly in the last letter seems to be flailing already.  When we first saw you on the train to Hogwarts, Ron had said that you looked as if one good hex would finish you off, but you proved us wrong.   Professor Mawkish isn’t doing so great.  Apparently she’s still trying to recuperate from a Death Eater attack over the summer.  The lesson planning, essay marking, and having to cope with us students all seem to be too much for her.  Seamus has already started taking bets on when she’ll finally collapse under the strain and have to leave!

Professor Dumbledore has said that I am to spend Christmas at Privet Drive, as he’ll be away on business and he can’t guarantee my safety here.  As you can imagine, I’m not too happy about this.  Do you know who’ll be collecting me?

Anyway, I know you won’t want to hear that you’ve been responsible for me not doing my work, so I’d better end this here and finish my Potions essay.

Looking forward to your next letter,

Harry

 

 

The thought of being able to spend another night with Harry at Christmas prompted Remus to bring the subject up with Kingsley, when he had the opportunity to speak with him three days later.  He had broached it innocently enough, pointing out that Harry had asked who it would be, and to Remus’s relief, Kingsley automatically suggested that he should be the one to collect Harry again.  The subject soon moved on with Kingsley filling Remus in on a few odds and ends of gossip, including a new product line of Fred and George’s that Remus felt he had to mention in his next letter to Harry.  As soon as Kingsley left, Remus was hunting for parchment and a quill.

 

**Dear Harry,**

**I’m sorry that I haven’t replied sooner, but I’ve been waiting to speak with Kingsley about collecting you at the end of term.**

**I realise that you’re not looking forward to spending Christmas with the Dursleys, but I’ll be collecting you from the station.  We’ll be staying at the same place.  Hopefully, I’ll be escorting you at the end of the holidays as well, since the full moon isn’t until the end of your first week back in January.**

**It’s a pity that you and Hermione don’t seem to want the same things; perhaps you’ve misjudged the situation, and you two can carry on seeing each other.  As far as advice is concerned, I’m not sure I’m qualified to give you any…  But, if I were you, I’d tell her soon.  Be gentle with her, and make sure she understands exactly why you don’t want a relationship.  You wouldn’t want her to think that you were just using her because she happened to be convenient.  Have I just stated the obvious?**

**At least your new teacher isn’t in the same league as Professor Umbridge!  I’d join in with the betting, but I doubt Albus would approve! It would be a shame if she can’t cope with the position; I don’t know who else Albus could turn to.  The only person I can think of is Professor Snape.  It would be easier to get someone to take over the Potions position than to teach Defence lessons.**

**In speaking with Kingsley, I discovered something I feel I should warn you about.  Fred and George’s latest venture in Magical Truth or Dare kits. Of course, they can’t include anything like Veritaserum for legal reasons, but they’ve been doing some research and have found a loophole.  They’ve now concocted something that won’t force you to tell the truth, but it will prevent you from lying.  They intend to put their first batch up for sale at Zonko’s on the next Hogsmeade weekend.  There are bound to be a few boxes that end up at Hogwarts by the end of the day, so you should probably think of a valid excuse not to play.**

**I’m looking forward to seeing you at Christmas, and to hearing from you before then.**

**Please tell me if you change your mind about anything.**

**Remus**

After sending the letter, Remus concentrated on his work for the Order, not letting himself spend time on anticipating Harry’s next reply.  He was an adult; he shouldn’t be daydreaming about a sixteen year old.  He should be getting on with his life and taking care of his responsibilities.  But he couldn't restrain the warm feeling when, just a few days later, Hedwig arrived once more.

 

Dear Remus,

Thanks for the advice about Hermione.  Unfortunately, it came a bit too late.  Hermione has terminated our little affair, and she refused to speak to me for two days because, as you said, she thought I had just used her.  I’ve since had the opportunity to explain myself, and we’re friends again.  Although I must admit, the atmosphere is a bit strained.   On the plus side, she’s considering the possibilities of dating Ron, and hopefully, _it_ will take her mind off me.  I’ve been trying to steer Ron’s attention in her direction, not that that’s taken much effort.  He’s blatantly had a thing for her since she dated Viktor Krum in the fourth year.

Professor Mawkish is still struggling through.  I’ve put two Sickles on her leaving the week after Halloween, when the seventh years take their mock exams for the NEWTs.

We’re going to Hogsmeade on Saturday, and Ron’s confirmed that Fred and George will be setting up at Zonko’s for the day.  I’ve convinced Ron not to get involved, since he doesn’t want to admit his feelings for Hermione in public.  Hermione didn’t need convincing.  After all, we should be studying, not playing Truth or Dare!  She practically ordered me to steer clear as well, as she doesn’t want everyone to know about what happened between me and her, which is more than fine by me.

And, Remus, I haven’t changed my mind.  I’m actually looking forward to Christmas now, even if it does mean spending more time with the Dursleys.

It’s good to be able to stay in touch with you,

Harry

 

Remus never got a chance to write back before the next letter turned up.  It was late Saturday afternoon when Hedwig arrived, looking flustered, as if she had raced to get there.  Across the letter, Remus could see somebody else’s heavy scrawl added to Harry’s.

 

 

Remus,

I thought I should warn you what’s happened, hopefully before Tonks gets to you.  Fred and George have found out that Dudley _was_ at the Dursleys when you came to pick me up at the start of term.

Apparently, George telephoned Smeltings and managed to talk to Dudley, pretending to be Tonks’s over-protective, older brother.  As you can imagine, Dudley was more than happy to tell George everything (even what happened with Tonks!) when he thought I was going to get beaten up for it.  So now they know all that Dudley has seen fit to tell them. __

Anyway, they have a transcript of George’s conversation with Dudley, and Dudley makes the kiss sound really bad. **Can we say UNDERSTATEMENT?** That was Ron, by the way.  He says hi. **Hello, Remus, I’m ashamed of you, deeply ashame—**

Fred and George are going to give a copy of the transcript to Tonks, so that she can give you grief, and not only for lying… 

**They also spiked Harry’s butterbeer with a Truth or Dare pill.  George asked if Harry had enjoyed the kiss, which I think was a complete waste of time—the transcript speaks for itself, as you will find out.  Tonks is going to eat you for breakfast!  Especially when she hears that Harry liked kissing you better than her (Fred asked that one!) We’re willing to keep quiet, for the sake of Harry’s sensibilities, but personally, I’m disgusted.  And to think, you used to be our teacher!  I’ll never be able to look at you in the same way agai—**

Sorry about Ron, he ran off with the letter.  I’d re-write it, but he’d only do it again.

Only Fred, George, Hermione, and Ron know about the transcript, and they’ve promised not to mention it to anyone else.  Hopefully, they’ll soon get bored of picking on me.

Good luck dealing with Tonks!

Harry

 

 

The memory of Harry saying, “I’d never live that sort of an admission down at school” passed through Remus’s mind.  Well, at least the people who’d know and be able to hassle Harry were limited.  Remus swallowed nervously. _Why do I get the impression that I need to read the transcript before I get accosted by Tonks?_

The answer to his question came when Tonks arrived early on Sunday morning.  

 

“Remus Lupin, you dirty old man,” she said in mock horror as she entered the kitchen.

 

“Do I get to see this infamous transcript then?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could, remaining seated and only gracing her with the barest of glances over the top of his book.

“I see Harry’s managed to warn you,” she moaned as she sat opposite him.  “I tell you what, Remus, how about we cut to the chase, and I just read you the _best_ bit?”

 

He looked up again, feigning indifference, as she gave him an evil grin before digging through her robes.  A moment later, she had pulled out a ream of parchment and her eyes began scanning the document. 

 

“Here we are!”  She cleared her throat and continued in a gruff Dudley impersonation.  “Well, as soon as they could they had their arms around each other, and then they were snogging with tongues and everything.  He had his hands all over her, and she…” Tonks paused briefly as her eyes jumped slightly down the page.  “ _She_ had her hands all over him as well, and they were pressedright up against each other.I’ve never seen anyone kiss like that.  Even on that first day I saw them, it wasn’t this bad.  This time, they were really going for it, like they could’ve just started shagging there and then on the stairs.  They were even moaning in each other’s mouths.  And Harry had got a boner from it; she was rubbing her leg up against it… well, I guess he was rubbing himself on her leg just as much as she was rubbing him.  When they finally stopped, they were both breathing really hard, like they’d been running or something, and they looked really flushed.”

As Tonks read, Remus felt the colour rise in his cheeks and his stomach sink to his feet; he had to admit that it did sound quite bad.  His thoughts immediately turned to recovery tactics. __

“So,” he began in a croak.  He cleared his voice and continued, “Have you considered that maybe Dudley was exaggerating, just to get at Harry?”

“Oh, yes,” Tonks replied far more confidently than Remus liked.  “I did consider that.  But that would only make sense if he had exaggerated about… other things, which he didn’t.”

 

“Like when you had sex with Harry?” Remus replied bluntly, staring her directly in the eye, trying to throw her off-balance.  

 

Tonks blanched.  

 

“Did Harry—”

 

“No, you can thank Dudley for letting that one slip,” he returned the evil grin that she had thrown his way earlier.  She narrowed her eyes at him.  “And speaking of that night,” Remus said, continuing with the diversionary tactic, “How can you stand there and question what _I_ did? _You’ve_ done far worse!”  

 

“Not knowingly in front of an audience! And can I mention the age difference and point out that I’ve never been his teacher?”

“And can _I_ point out that it was you and Hermione who originally conspired to get me into that situation? Those were _my_ objections to _your_ little scheme in the first place!” Remus was stunned that she now had the gall to throw this back in his face.  “Before I left, didn’t you tell me to ‘make the most of it’ because ‘it would do me good’?”

“Well, there’s making the most of it, and then there’s… well, doing what you did! Anyway, you lied about it, Remus.  What do you expect? Of course it’s going to make what you did look even worse! If you hadn’t lied about it, then George and Fred wouldn’t have had the idea of phoning Dudley, and no one would have heard Dudley’s _exquisite_ description.  Secrets have a tendency to come back and bite you in the bum, Remus.  At least there’s no chance of you being asked back to teach at Hogwarts, now that _would_ be awkward!” 

                                      

It seemed that Tonks had tempted fate, as the following morning, Remus received a letter from Albus Dumbledore.

 

 

Dear Remus, 

I hope this letter finds you well, and I apologise for not being able to visit you since term has started, but as you may appreciate, my role as Headmaster does seem to consume a rather large amount of my time.  

My reason for sending you a letter, as opposed to using the Floo Network, is in order to make an official request.  

Due to an incident that occurred over the summer, our current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is having difficulties managing the amount of work that the role entails.  As I do not believe I will be able to find a full-time replacement, I was hoping you would consider the possibility of sharing the position.  

I would require your assistance for two weeks out of every four.  The two weeks that you would _not_ be working, and therefore, not residing at Hogwarts, would be those surrounding the full moon.  I have spoken with the school governors, and they have agreed to this arrangement.  Those students whose parents do not wish them to be taught by someone with your condition will be given the option of not attending any lessons given by you.  I know that you will understand the reasons for this.  Should you accept this position, you will need to work closely with Professor Mawkish, so that being taught by two different teachers will not lead to confusion amongst the students.  

I appreciate that, with your recent inheritance, you are no longer in need of a paid position, but I am at a loss for suitable alternatives.  

Please consider my request.  I will need a response within the next seven days, as I would like to make arrangements for the seventh year mock exams.

Kindest regards,

Albus Dumbledore 

 

 

Remus sat silently at the table for several moments, taking it in.  There seemed to be only one way for this to go; he was going to be Harry’s teacher, once more.  What happened between them could not be repeated.  It was going to be awkward enough teaching Harry, as it was, especially with Ron and Hermione knowing about the kiss.  To even consider continuing to have a… an affair just wasn’t an option.  

 

He felt that turning down Albus wasn’t an option, either.  It would be the right thing to do, but that would involve an explanation and letting people down, letting Albus down.  He couldn’t do that, not after all Albus had done in the past to help him.  And if he were to refuse the offer, what reason did he think he could give? “I’m sorry, I’ve slept with a student and was intending to do so again!”  He could imagine the backlash that would cause for Harry.  If Harry was having trouble living down the admission of thinking he was a better kisser than Tonks, then Remus didn’t need much imagination to know just how much worse things could be for Harry.  

 

He wanted Harry’s already difficult life to be made as easy as it could be.  If people found out what they had done, then they definitely wouldn’t hold Harry in very high esteem.  For Remus knew Harry wouldn’t be one to take the gossip lying down; if there was even one person implying that Remus had coerced Harry into it, he had the impression that Harry would shout from the rooftops that he had been a willing participant.  

 

There was no option; he was going to be Harry’s teacher.  And now, he could want all he liked, but he couldn’t have.  He was going back to Hogwarts, and there was one thing that had to be done before anything else: _I’d better write to Harry and let him know the bad news._

 


	4. Remus Restricted: The Inability to be Honest

_“Lead me not into temptation; I can find the way myself”  
\- Rita Mae Brown_

 

***

 

Albus Dumbledore had wanted to keep Remus’s meetings with Severus as secret as possible.  As far as Dumbledore was aware, there was no reason for Remus to have to explain his whereabouts to anyone.  When Albus mentioned taking extra care to hide their arrangements from Sirius, Remus hadn’t been brave enough to point out just how difficult it would be for him.  All he could think was that Albus needed him for this role, and it was very important in the war against Voldemort.  So Remus had just sat there, nodding and agreeing with Albus’s assessment of how badly Sirius would react if he found out the Order was using Severus Snape as a contact.  

 

“Severus is doing this at great personal risk to himself; I’m sure you understand,” Albus had explained.  “The information that he could provide may prove instrumental.  He is not willing to work with any of the others, but he has agreed for you to be his point of contact.”

 

Remus assumed that Severus had picked him because he knew Remus was the type of person who would feel obliged in keeping his secret—especially after Severus had kept Remus’s secret about being a werewolf during their last couple of years at Hogwarts.  Severus was right.

 

“I need you to liaise with him,” Albus continued, “and I need to be able to guarantee that his safety won’t be compromised through us.  Can you do this, Remus?”

 

“Yes.”

 

For such a small word it took a long time—thirteen years—for Remus to fully realise the devastation it had inadvertently triggered.  

 

He had hated keeping secrets, although he had had a lot of practise what with being a werewolf.  Some would say that being a werewolf was just an excuse, and that the only reason he had a lot of practise was due to his cowardice, to which Remus would have to ashamedly agree.  But it was the fact that he was keeping a secret from Sirius that had really bothered him.  Sirius liked honesty.  It came so naturally to him, _too_ naturally even; Remus often believed that Sirius’s biggest enemy was his own mouth.  But in Remus’s life, sometimes keeping things quiet seemed to become a necessity—whether just through hiding of facts, or through blatant lying if the occasion warranted it—and the truth was no longer an option.  

 

A downside to keeping secrets is that when someone suspects, they soon become obsessed with finding out exactly what it is that you’re hiding.  But unfortunately, it’s more likely they’ll only find out part of the truth, and fill in the gaps themselves.  With secrets, comes the risks of exposure; with exposure, comes mistrust.  Sirius had mistrusted Remus, to the downfall of Lily, James, Harry, and himself.  And it wasn’t the only time Remus had been caught out, although the other occasions had had less dire consequences.  Three of Remus’s four biggest secrets had been exposed to those people he had needed to keep them quiet from.  Sirius had found out about his meetings with Severus.  Albus had found out Remus had known and concealed from him that Sirius was an Animagus.  The general public found out that a werewolf was teaching their children.  Only his status as Sirius’s lover—ex-lover—had remained relatively private, with just James, Lily, and now Harry, being aware of it.

 

At times, he had even subconsciously kept secrets from himself.  In his sixth year at Hogwarts, he frequently began to feel awkward around his friends.  In response to this, he threw himself more and more into his responsibilities as a prefect.  At first, he didn’t know why he felt like this.  Of course, he didn’t try to think about why, either.  He just backed off from them slightly, hiding behind the prefect persona.  He had already admitted to himself that his reasons—however valid they were—for not wanting to date any girls were, in fact, just excuses that he clung to.  Girls didn’t interest him in that way, but he wasn’t about to admit to this to the others.  Boys didn’t interest him, either, not because he didn’t find them attractive, but because he’d never even considered them as an option before.  

 

His first indication of what the real problem was came as an unfamiliar, twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach, always when in the company of Sirius.  And whenever Sirius made one of his “I’m bored” announcements, Remus began to get the urge to join in with whatever prank James was pulling to rectify the boredom; even though he knew damn well he should have been the one to speak up and play out his role as prefect.  He wanted to be the one to entertain Sirius.  Realising that he was actually jealous of James finally prompted Remus to acknowledge what was happening.  He was mortified that he was now becoming fixated on his friend.  This was the friend who had accepted him as a werewolf all those years ago; the friend who spent so much time learning to become an Animagus to make his life easier around the full moon; the friend who deserved so much better than to have his friendship twisted in that way.  So Remus distanced himself even further from Sirius, James, and Peter.  

 

Lily was the one to bring him to his senses.  While his friends left him to his life of being a prefect, Lily was there for him when no one else was: no one else could be.  This wasn’t exactly something Remus could discuss with his friends.  After several sessions of badgering Remus and talking him round, Lily finally convinced him that he was overreacting.  She had told him that it was silly to give up on his friendship with Sirius just in case Remus’s attraction caused him to lose it.  She also insisted, several times, that Sirius didn’t deserve someone as nice as Remus.  Remus silently agreed, albeit for a different reason: he thought Sirius deserved better.  Although Remus could never bring himself to admit his feelings to Sirius, he finally began to feel less awkward about spending time with him as a friend.  

 

Remus remembered that this had been around the same time that Lily suddenly seemed to develop a certain amount of tolerance towards James Potter.  In hindsight, Remus was positive she had only spent so much time with James, at least initially, because she wanted the opportunity to assess Sirius’s views on the matter and to subtly prod him into thinking in the right direction; Remus had already admitted to Lily that he’d never be brave enough to find out whether his friendship with Sirius could be anything more.  In the end, of course, it had been Sirius to push things further, after having been prompted by Lily, no doubt.  Looking back on those events, Remus realised that they probably never would have become involved at all if Sirius hadn’t taken the initiative.

            

Thinking about the past helped Remus put the present into perspective.  Sirius had been his friend, and _only_ his friend, at Hogwarts, and Remus had been able to live without following his instincts—until Sirius decided to make a move on _him_.  Holding himself back now wasn’t going to be a problem, either.  It didn’t matter that he already knew how enjoyable it could be to get that intimate with Harry: the one-night stand wasn’t going to be anything else.  He was Harry’s teacher, and Harry was his student, nothing more.  Yes, he had to acknowledge feeling disappointed, but he’d learnt how to deal with that type of emotion a long time ago.

 

The first day Remus returned to Hogwarts, he didn’t see Harry at all.  A few students pointed and whispered to each other as he made his way up to Albus’s office, which left him wondering whether anyone would disrupt his lessons because they knew he was a werewolf.  But his worries were eased slightly when a couple of other students had come up to say a friendly hello.  The teachers had been polite enough, some notably more reserved than before.  Severus, as expected, had just ignored him.  

 

As Remus approached the stone gargoyle at the entrance to Albus Dumbledore’s office, Albus emerged from the stairway with a rather round and petite lady, who reminded Remus of his aunt.  Closing the distance between them, he noticed that she even had the same smell of stale mothballs.  He grimaced inside, remembering the aunt who had never used his name, preferring to call him “dear”, and who never seemed to see him as a person, only someone who could entertain her with interesting information.  Still, this wasn’t his aunt, he told himself; this was a fellow teacher.

 

She gave him a warm smile as Albus introduced him, then she took Remus's right hand in both of hers and shook it enthusiastically.

 

“Hello, dear,” she began, her voice sounding frail but determined.  “I must say I’m quite excited to meet you.  I’ve never met a werewolf before, you see.  And I must admit, to look at you I never would have guessed.”

 

Albus gave Remus a look that seemed to be a mixture of both sympathy and amusement.  

 

“Now, if you will both excuse me, I must be getting along,” Albus said while she continued to shake Remus’s hand.  “I’ll leave you two to discuss lesson plans.”  

 

They spent the next hour or so going over what Professor Mawkish had intended to cover for the rest of the year.  Occasionally, she would point out topics that she thought Remus would be particularly suited to help on.  Like his aunt, she did have a tendency to call Remus “dear”, which for the moment, he convinced himself was quite endearing, but he knew that somewhere along the line it was bound to become highly annoying.  She was also a very curious individual, who wasn’t afraid of asking questions—very blunt questions at times—all the while, being oblivious to how personal those queries actually were.  But he thought she seemed to be a good teacher, and Remus couldn’t see any problems with having to work alongside her.

 

“So for the fifth years and above, I’d like to introduce non-conventional duelling techniques,” Professor Mawkish said as they poured over her teaching notes in the staff room.  “I feel they could be important, especially given the current climate.”

 

“Yes, I quite agree.  If ever faced with a Death Eater, they could hardly expect that the conventional etiquette of a wizard’s duel will be followed.”

 

“Would you consider taking the section on defensive posture and movement, dear? My hips aren’t what they used to be, and I wouldn’t be able to give an adequate demonstration.  I had planned to cover the main principles towards the end of this term, and then go into the details of a couple of the more difficult movements in January.  That should give them enough scope to be able to learn the other movements by themselves.”

 

“That should be fine.  Is there anything else I need to know before I start classes on Monday?”

 

“Not that I can… oh, yes.”  Professor Mawkish seemed to perk up slightly as she remembered.  “There is an essay I set last week that I was going to mark myself… but once I heard you would be coming here to assist me, I felt it would make much more sense for you to mark them.  I’m sure you are better qualified to do so.”

 

“And what is the essay about?” Remus asked, gathering his notes as he spoke.

 

“It is a comparison between the mating rituals of Mooncalves and werewolves.”

 

For a brief moment, he stopped, the piece of piece of paper he was holding suspended in mid-air.  

 

“That’s a…er, interesting combination.”

 

“Yes, I thought so, too,” Professor Mawkish said, looking quite pleased with herself.  “It was thanks to Mr. Ron Weasley that the idea came up.”  Remus’s eyes narrowed as she continued to explain.  “We were going over the Mooncalf mating practices in class, and he asked—which is something that is quite unusual in itself, Mr. Weasley asking a question; it’s usually Miss Granger.  Although I must say he has developed an interest in Polyjuice over the past week, as well.  Anyway, where was I, dear?”

 

“You were explaining how you came up with the subject for the essay,” Remus said in a slightly strained voice.

 

“Oh yes, thank you, dear.  Yes, Mr. Weasley asked whether Mooncalves were rare.  He wondered if, because of the fact they come out only during full moon, they were particularly at risk from werewolf attacks.  I told him that I hadn’t heard of any Mooncalves being injured or killed in this way; I’ve always been under the impression that werewolves only ate humans.  Have _you_ ever eaten a Mooncalf, dear?”

 

“Er, no, I can’t say that I have.”

 

“Just humans then, dear?”

 

“No.  I haven’t eaten any of those, either.”

 

“Oh, really?  I must say, I’m very curious.  What _have_ you eaten in your werewolf state?”

 

“Nothing that I’m aware of.  I’ve mostly been kept restrained, one way or another, until recently.  Now, I’m able to afford the Wolfsbane Potion.”  

 

“How fascinating…” Professor Mawkish stood there staring at him.  He felt his skin crawl at the way she was analysing him, as if he were a museum exhibit, and he could feel his patience beginning to run out.  She might be intrigued in a nice way, but it was still a bit much to take on his first day back.

 

“You were telling me about the essays,” Remus prompted.

 

“Oh yes.  Well, Mr. Weasley went off on a bit of a tangent from his first question, asking if I knew the mating practices of werewolves and were they studied in the same way as Mooncalves.”

 

Internally, Remus groaned.  _Poor Harry_ , he thought.  It seemed that Ron was certainly taking any proffered opportunities to have a dig at his friend.  Remus smiled politely at Professor Mawkish as she continued, hoping that his teaching appointment would cause Ron to ease off in the future.  

 

“So, instead of getting them to merely summarise the chapter on Mooncalves, I asked them to do a comparative essay.  Naturally, when I heard that Professor Dumbledore was hiring a real live werewolf for the position, I thought it best to keep hold of the essays and let you look through them yourself.  I’d like to think you’d know a bit more about werewolf mating practices than I do.”  

 

Remus was startled when she gave him a sly wink and a quick nudge with her elbow.

 

“Er, yes… possibly.”

 

“I’ve had a quick look through a couple of the essays, and I must say it all seems pretty interesting.  Perhaps, at some point, you would be kind enough to talk me through the myths and the realities, dear?” 

 

She wasn’t being lurid in any way, and Remus found this to be the most disturbing aspect of what she was saying.  She genuinely believed this was an acceptable topic of discussion, going into detail about his personal life as if it were no different than talking about the sexual habits of Nifflers.  Remus nodded passively, inwardly hoping that she would forget the subject.  

 

“Mr. Weasley, in particular, seems to have done a rather large amount of research on the subject,” Professor Mawkish announced, following another tangent in her head.  “And this hasn’t been copied from Miss Granger, for a change.  I’m very impressed with his work.”

 

As he began marking the essays later on that evening, Remus noticed that Ron Weasley had certainly done far more than the bare minimum.  He could imagine the grief Harry would have received while they had carried out the research for the essay; it seemed that Ron had included every detail that was contained within the library.  

 

As Remus read through Ron’s work, he found that the words “little sod” repeatedly came to mind.  Ron had begun with comparisons between wolf and werewolf hierarchies, paying particular attention to same-sex bonding.  He then moved onto sexual courtship behaviours observed between werewolves at full moon, and speculations that they tended towards the same courtship patterns in their everyday life.  Ron had also discussed an interview with a werewolf who had said he could smell attraction on others when in his werewolf state.  At the end of this particular section, Ron had added, _It does raise the intriguing question of whether they can smell attraction during the rest of the month._   Remus opted not to grant Ron with an answer.

 

Harry’s essay, on the other hand, included very little information from the library.  That which it did include was only used to illustrate the limitations of the library texts, and therefore, why he wasn’t able to make any generalisations that could be assumed as fact.  Remus smiled as he read Harry’s concluding lines.   

 

_Although there are several books in the library on the subject of werewolves, most of them are out of date and have been written from a biased point of view.  Most of all, they fail to take into account the human aspect of the werewolf, which surely should take precedence given that they are in their werewolf form only during the full moon._

 

Remus barely resisted the temptation to grade Harry’s essay with an O and Ron’s with a D.  

 

Once he had finished marking the first two essays, Remus set to work on the rest of them, cringing at some of the assumptions made, but also thankful that Harry’s essay had helped give him a few ideas of neutral comments he could use.  When it came to handing them back in lesson time, Remus made a point of trying to embarrass Ron, having convinced himself that it wasn’t being _too_ unprofessional.

 

“I could tell you’ve put a lot of work into this essay, Ron.  Five points to Gryffindor.  But I must admit that I’ve never known you to be so interested in a subject before… Is there something you wanted to tell me, Ron?” he asked, in mock seriousness.  “Anything that I should be _worried_ about?”

 

Several students had sniggered as Ron spluttered at this, with a look of disgust on his face.  And Remus had been pleased to note that Harry had found it particularly amusing.

 

Over the course of his first two weeks, life soon became quite functional.  There _were_ a couple of faces missing from his lessons, but on the whole, most students were still willing to be taught by him.  He taught, they learned, he marked essays, and he artfully avoided the persistent questions and contributions from Ron—all guaranteed to be concerning Polyjuice potion, age difference, morality, or anything else Ron could relate to the kiss and the particular lesson at hand.  It seemed that Remus’s hopes of Ron easing up on Harry had not been realised.  

 

Remus felt it a little unnerving, at first, to teach someone he was attracted to.  The school robes weren’t helping, either; when Remus had attended Hogwarts as a student, he had developed a bit of a fetish for them, thanks to Sirius.  Even so, Remus didn’t have any worries about the situation; it wasn’t as if anyone was going to find out his private fantasies.  There had been a couple of occasions in class when Remus’s mouth had automatically gone dry and his hands slightly sweaty as Harry, without realising it, had done something arousing, like suck on the end of a quill, deep in thought.  But Remus had been able to work around his little reactions without it being a problem, and later on in the privacy of his own rooms, he’d let himself indulge in fantasising about whatever Harry had been doing.  

 

Harry’s behaviour had surprised him.  Remus had assumed they would be able to spend some time talking, as they did in Harry’s third year, but Harry now seemed to be avoiding him.  Even in lessons, Harry never asked questions, volunteered answers, or volunteered for demonstrations.  He could only assume that Harry now felt awkward, after what had happened, and Remus couldn’t help feeling a bit saddened that he was missing out on Harry’s company because of that.  

 

Only once did he get to have an actual conversation with Harry outside of lessons, and that had felt stilted.  It had occurred as Remus was hastily making an exit from Hogwarts for the November full moon.  It had been a quick exit because Professor Mawkish had remembered the werewolf essay, and she had hopes of pinning him down for half an hour before he left.  In his enthusiasm to avoid her, Remus ended up crashing into Harry, sending him and his books flying. 

 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Remus said as he helped the winded Harry to his feet.  “Are you all right?”

 

“I could think of worse people to be knocked over by,” Harry said with a smirk.  “Are you going back for the full moon?” 

 

“Yes.  I’ll be returning to Hogwarts in two weeks time,” Remus replied, letting himself enjoy the feeling of being alone in Harry’s company.  “Harry, are you okay? I’ve noticed that you’ve been avoiding me, since I’ve been teaching.”

 

“I thought it would be easier if we didn’t talk like we used to the last time you taught here; that’s why I’ve been avoiding you.  I assumed you were doing the same thing.”

 

“Perhaps you’re right, Harry.  It probably would be for the best.”

            

With Harry’s books now all safely stowed back inside his bag, Remus realised that they were ready to go their own ways.

 

“Harry, would you… I… er….  You’d be welcome to walk with me down to the gates,” Remus offered.  “I don’t see any harm in that.”

 

Harry gave another smile, triggering a pleasant memory for Remus of the feel of those lips against his own, and they turned to walk through the giant oak front doors.  As they wandered slowly away from the castle, Remus battered down the urge to do anything inappropriate to his student.

 

“It’s not too confusing to have two teachers for your Defence lessons is it?” Remus asked, playing the part of a responsible teacher by trying to keep the conversation in a neutral territory.  
  


“I haven’t had any problems so far,” Harry confirmed.  With a grin, he added, “At least, not with the teachers; it’s Ron who’s been driving me up the wall!”

 

“Yes, I’ve noticed he’s still amusing himself at your expense.”

 

“And yours, now.”

 

“I dare say I could do with a Defence Against the Students class.  Ron’s certainly keeping me on my toes, though I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate just how much.  At least he’s been _relatively_ subtle about it.”

 

“Yeah, I suppose he could be worse.  Still, I wouldn’t say no to having a two week break from him, though!”

 

“I doubt it’ll be any more peaceful back at Grimmauld Place, not with Tonks, Fred and George coming over.” Remus pulled a face at the thought of it.  “Tonks isn’t too much trouble: I have something with which I can retaliate.  But whenever I see Fred and George, they never let up; they’ve even taken to calling me Casanova!”

 

“Casanova? So he wasn’t a Muggle, then?”

 

“No, he was a wizard.  One who happened to be a quite knowledgeable about love potions.”

 

They were now drawing closer to the gate, and both of them had slowed their steps even further.

 

“I won’t write,” Harry said, his face showing how disgruntled he felt about this.  “It’ll only give Ron more ammunition.”

 

Remus gave him a sympathetic look.  “Fred and George certainly have a lot to answer for,” he sighed.  “I wish things didn’t have to go this way, Harry; Albus offering my job back was the last thing I expected.”

 

“I know.  I’m disappointed it had to turn out like this, too.  I’ll be all right. Though, it is a bit hard at times.”  Harry winced as they both acknowledged the unintended double meaning.  “Sorry, bad choice of words.”

 

“Harry, do you want me to get someone else to take you at Christmas?” Remus asked, suddenly realising just how difficult it might be, now, for him and Harry to share the same room.

 

“Isn’t it going to look a bit odd, if you suddenly change the arrangements?”

 

Remus nodded, knowing that Harry was right.  Whatever happened, Remus told himself, they’d be able to cope, he was sure of it.          

 

The two-week break passed all too quickly for Remus.  He had had a couple of jobs for the Order to fit in, as well as lesson planning and essay marking, which all kept him occupied.  When he returned to Hogwarts, he was soon immersing himself in his teaching duties once more, and with all that was going on, Remus let himself become distracted from any further thoughts of the Christmas break.  It wasn’t until his last lesson with the sixth years, shortly before the December full moon, that he found himself considering the subject of escorting Harry again.  

 

“Professor Mawkish has requested that I cover defensive posture and movement with you, as she feels unable to demonstrate the moves adequately,” Remus informed the class.  “Unfortunately, there is no guarantee that any duels you may be involved in will be carried out in what could be described as a dignified manner.  You should be well aware by now of the threat that we are currently living under.  And with this in mind, both Professor Mawkish and I believe it will be prudent for you to learn techniques that enable a wizard to concentrate on casting any necessary spells, rather than trying to keep his or her balance.  Your textbooks cover several different moves, but for the moment, I intend to focus only on a couple of them to give you an idea of how they can help.  We can go through more of them next term.  Please turn to page two hundred and seventy-five.”

 

Remus waited patiently until the sound of shuffling pages subsided.  

 

“The main movement we are covering is the second one down the page.  As you can see, it involves casting a spell in one direction, followed by a twist and an immediate casting in the opposite direction.  Fairly simple, but it is all too easy for legs to become tangled up when you are under pressure and trying to think about casting at more than one opponent.  The bottom line is this: the movements of your body must become automatic.”  

 

With a flick of his wand, Remus’s desk was moved to the back wall.  He then placed two chairs on either side of the room.  

 

“Let me demonstrate.”  

 

He then proceeded to cast Stunning Spells, one after the other, first on one chair and then turning quickly to cast on the second chair, and then back again.  This was done several times before he stopped to face the class, slightly out of breath.  He noticed Ron giving Harry a subtle jab in the ribs rather than paying attention, and wondered what he was up to this time.  

 

“Everybody up!  Please place all your things—except your wands, of course—at the back of the room.  I’ll clear the tables.”  

 

Remus proceeded to line up the chairs in a row along each side of the room.  “Because there are so many of you, you will have to work in pairs: otherwise, we won’t have the space.  You will each cast first on the chair, then turn and cast on your partner.  For safety’s sake, I would like you all to cast only the shield charm, _Protego_ —even on the chairs: we don’t want to risk anyone getting mixed up.  Is there anyone who does not know how to cast this?”  He looked around at the sea of faces and was pleased to see that everyone seemed quite happy with the chosen spell.  

 

“Very well.”  He then ran through the placing of feet and shifting of bodyweight, demonstrating once more, but this time, far more slowly.  “Please go ahead, I’ll wander amongst you and comment as and when I need to.  And please, don’t put too much effort into your spell-casting: I’d like to avoid taking anyone to the hospital wing, if possible.”

 

On the whole, Remus was very pleased with their progress.  True, there were a couple of errant spells that had to be ducked, and two portraits and one clock became unfortunate casualties, but considering he had originally been worried about the possibility of physical injuries, it was going fairly peacefully.  Even when Seamus Finnegan inadvertently set one of the chairs on fire, it didn’t cause a huge disturbance, and the fire was quickly extinguished.  Remus decided to get Dean Thomas and Seamus to practise without wands after that, leaving Dean feeling much more secure.  

 

Remus wandered around the room, occasionally intervening and helping individuals with the positioning of their legs.  He didn’t think there’d be any problems to speak of, until he passed Harry.  

 

Harry was having particular problems dictating the movements of his body, and Remus could only assume that it was because they were using different muscles than what Harry would be used to when playing Quidditch.  Several times Harry ended up pointing in the wrong direction, or overbalancing halfway through a spell.  Remus winced; this was not the best of scenarios he could’ve imagined to occur, not during a lesson.  He had no choice but to intervene.  

 

“Harry, you need to have the left leg placed more centrally underneath your body.”

 

Harry tried to comply with Remus’s instruction, but he couldn’t get his leg in the right place without tipping forwards.  There was nothing for it; Harry was going to have to be positioned.  The thought _I’m just his teacher_ was all that Remus allowed through his head as he knelt down on one knee in front of Harry.  In the background, he could hear Ron sniggering.

 

“Support yourself using my shoulders, and I’ll move your leg to where it’s supposed to be,” Remus explained.  

 

He had done this for a few of the other students, this very lesson, and it hadn’t been a problem then.  He wouldn’t let it become a problem now.  It was just a leg he was moving… manipulating, just the same as all the other legs he had positioned over the past twenty minutes or so.  It didn’t matter that this was Harry’s leg, or that Remus could clearly remember what it had tasted like when it had been covered with a layer of with Harry’s sweat.  He wouldn’t _let_ it matter, even if he felt as if the room temperature had suddenly risen by a good ten degrees.  With the leg now in place, Remus hastily stood up and moved back to put some distance between them, telling Harry to take note of how it felt to be supporting himself in that position.

 

“That will help you to remember where to place your leg in future,” he added before going back to the teacher’s desk to take a much-needed drink of water.  

 

To Remus’s immense relief, Harry successfully completed a couple of turns.

 

Remus then moved on to the second movement: casting from a crouched position, and then turning to cast whilst standing, and vice versa.  Unfortunately, the time that Remus took to demonstrate this move was the length of time needed for Harry to lose the original standing position.  

 

Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as a couple of inappropriate flashbacks chose that moment to resurface; the last thing he needed was an erection.  He walked back to his desk and pretended to shuffle papers for a moment, thinking for a way around that particular aspect of the problem at hand, and wondering if Harry was likely to be affected in the same way.  An idea came to him.

 

“This is taking a little longer than I had anticipated,” he announced to the class.  “I had planned to cover cloak-use as well, as that can prove to be a hindrance when carrying out these moves, unless you practice.  So for the rest of the lesson, we’ll combine the two.”

 

Underneath the confines of his cloak, Remus felt a lot more secure knowing that any inappropriate reactions could now be safely hidden.  He moved amongst the students once more, helping out here and there and hoping that Harry would be able to get the gist before Remus made it to where he was practising.  But Remus’s hopes were in vain.

 

Having an extra layer of clothing might be good for hiding anything that cropped up, but it didn’t do anything to dampen Remus’s desire, merely the opposite.  The school robes that had become a frequent part of his fantasies lately were teasing him mercilessly, and the fact that no one could see his hands underneath Harry’s cloak as he positioned the leg again left him desperately fighting the urge to touch Harry in a way that was far more intimate than it should be.  Now resigned to the inevitable swelling that was occurring, Remus instead tried to concentrate solely on his breathing, in an attempt to keep it resembling something at least vaguely normal to the other students.  

 

With Harry re-positioned and, finally, seeming to have sorted out his balance, Remus went back to his desk with a sigh of relief that the lesson was nearly over.  

 

“Professor,” Hermione called out, stopping him in his tracks.

 

“Yes,” he replied, only turning halfway so that the front of his cloak didn’t gape open.  

 

“I’m still having problems visualising the second move.  Please could you demonstrate it once more, without the cloak?”

 

Ignoring the sensation of blood draining from his face, Remus took a brief moment to collect himself, to slow his suddenly racing heartbeat, and to improvise an excuse.  

 

“I’m sorry, Hermione, but I was just about to wind the lesson up.  If you want to stay afterwards, I could go through it with you then,” Remus suggested, hoping that his reaction to Harry wouldn’t still be a problem at that point.  She was looking at him in an odd manner, and he wondered why this would be a problem for her.  “You have a break after this lesson, do you not?”

 

“Yes, sir.  Thank you.”  

 

“That’s enough then, everyone,” he called out to the rest of the class.  “Please collect your things.  Between now and when I return next term, I’d like you all to practise what we’ve covered this lesson.  Also, you need to pick out two further moves in the books, ones that you think I will teach you next term.  Write an essay describing them, the circumstances in which they could be useful, and why they are potentially more useful than the others.”

 

The class filed out of the room, leaving Hermione and Remus alone, and Remus feeling rather self-conscious.  He was relieved that he no longer had anything to hide under his cloak, but he couldn’t help noticing that she was gazing at him a little too intensely as he folded the cloak up and placed it on the back of a chair.  He gave out a silent prayer that she wouldn’t want to discuss the kiss with him.  

 

A moment later, he had slipped back into his teacher’s role and began the requested demonstration, feeling very relieved that Hermione was sticking to the subject at hand.  He failed to understand why Hermione felt she needed another demonstration when she seemed to have been doing so well throughout the lesson.  As he expected, when it came to Hermione going through the movements, she managed to complete it perfectly on her first try.  When they had finished, she gave a quick thank you and hurried out of the room after her friends.

 

Remus sat down heavily at this desk, resting his face in his hands, berating himself over his own lack of self-control.  He hoped that next term’s lesson on the same subject would be easier, now that Harry had managed the basics, and he told himself that he should just put it out of his mind.  Just as he had successfully put escorting Harry at the end of term out of his mind, he realised.  Remus muttered another prayer to whoever would listen, _Please let Giles have a spare twin room this time._


	5. Remus Reinserted: The Inability to Stick by a Decision.

_“Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.”_  
\- _Willliam Blake, "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell"_

 

***

 

“But… we’d agreed to wait until Halloween!” Remus protested.  

 

They had made the decision just before the term had started, and only two weeks later, Sirius had changed his mind.  He wanted to tell James about their relationship, but Remus wasn’t sure he was prepared to deal with James’s potential reaction at the moment.

 

“I know, but I can’t keep this from him any longer, Remus,” Sirius said firmly.  “And it’s driving me wild, not being able to take advantage of sleeping in the same room as you…”

 

“Even if James knew, it wouldn’t make any difference: he’s not the only one who sleeps in here.”

 

“James could help get us some privacy, to ensure we don’t get disturbed.”

 

“And you’re _that_ sure he’d be okay with it?”

 

“He’s my best friend.”

 

“I know, and I don’t want you to risk losing that because of me.”

 

“Remus, will you stop doing that!” Sirius snapped.  He caught the hurt look in Remus’s face and softened his voice slightly.  “James already worked out at the beginning of term that I’m hiding _something_ from him; he just doesn’t know what it is.  All I said was that I would tell him when I was ready.  And I’m ready now, Remus.”

 

At that moment, the door to their room suddenly banged open.  It was James, laden with a bag full of books.

 

“What are you two up to?” James asked, glancing between the odd expressions on their faces.  “I thought we were going to mess around on the Quidditch pitch this afternoon, Sirius.”

 

“There’s something I want to tell you, first,” Sirius replied, glancing warily at Remus.

 

“What about?”

 

“Remus, do you want to stay for this, or—?”

 

“I’ll be downstairs,” Remus said before hastily making an exit and hearing Sirius call out “Coward!” after him.

 

He sat out of the way, in a corner of the common room, pretending to read and waiting to find out James’s reaction.  After only a couple of minutes, he could hear the thud of something heavy being dropped upstairs.  No doubt, Sirius had told James in the most dramatic way he could think of.  

 

In hindsight, Remus should’ve known that Sirius would take the opportunity to wind him up, as well.  The next thing he knew, James was storming down the stairs, looking furious.  

 

James stopped halfway down, hung over the banister and yelled gruffly, “REMUS! GET UP HERE NOW!”  

 

Remus then trudged his way up the stairs, wondering how he was going to deal with this.  Once he entered the room, James had slammed the door closed, sending a shiver of panic up Remus’s spine.  Then both James and Sirius had burst into laughter.

 

“Sorry,” Sirius managed to say between gasps.  “I couldn’t resist!”

 

***

 

It had been that simple, and it had all happened in a matter of minutes.  Any anxiety he felt had been kept to a minimum, not counting Sirius and James’s little joke.  He didn’t have time to stew over Sirius’s overturning of their previous decision, didn’t have time to worry about an impending discussion; it was over and done with before he’d had the chance to think about it.  Spending the day waiting to go and collect Harry from the station was a different matter.  

 

He tried not to think about the evening ahead.  Every time his attention drifted in that direction, he only let himself think of it in terms of a teacher escorting a student and how it could be carried out as such.  Having Molly there, helping him tidy the house for when she and Arthur returned with Ron and Hermione later on, was a welcome distraction.  But it had felt like a very long day to Remus.  

 

By the time they had reached the station, Remus was still in two minds about the evening ahead.  On the one hand, he was anxious about being alone with Harry; on the other, he was looking forward to being able to spend time with him.  He waited, doing his best not to appear apprehensive, and before long, students began to trickle through the gates.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared and made their way over, with Ron laughing, Harry poking him, and Hermione looking thoughtful.  Ginny was staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, and Remus suspected this had something to do with Dean Thomas.

 

As they said their hellos, Ron hadn’t been able to hold back from asking why Remus hadn’t taken any Polyjuice this time.  Remus politely pointed out that it wasn’t necessary, as there shouldn’t be anyone there that evening who would object to a werewolf staying in the same place.  Then Molly was steering Ron and Hermione in the direction of the car.  

 

“See you in a couple of weeks,” Harry called out to them.

 

Remus took a deep breath to steady his nerves and then began to lead the way to the Green Dragon.

 

“What with the Ron’s family coming over, I take it there are going to be quite a few people at Grimmauld Place this year,” Harry said as they walked out of the station.

 

“Yes.  It’ll probably get quite busy.  Just like last year…” Remus trailed off as several images came to mind of Christmas at Grimmauld Place.  This was the first time he had thought about last Christmas, when Sirius had still been alive.  Although they hadn’t been together, Sirius’s enjoyment of having so much company had been really quite infectious.  It had been hard to get any moping done when Sirius’s booming voice could be heard all round the house, singing, “God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs!”  

 

Remus looked up to find Harry studying him.

 

“It’s never the same, when someone dies,” Harry said quietly.  “No matter how much your life becomes filled with other things, other people, there are always moments that remind you of them; moments that would be different if they were still here.”

 

Remus nodded, feeling a bit dismayed that their conversation had begun on such a melancholy note.  He tried to lighten the tone.  “It will feel strange this year, but I’m sure Tonks, Fred, and George will keep me occupied… When was the last time you spent Christmas at the Dursley’s?”

 

“It was before I first came to Hogwarts.  They’re really disappointed I’ve got to go back this year, almost as much as I am! I’ve asked Hermione to phone me a couple of times, to keep me sane.”

 

“Perhaps you could think of it as having two weeks to wind Dudley up,” Remus suggested with a smirk, which Harry returned.  

 

“I think I’ll enjoy that.  All that frustration of having to put up with Ron recently, and now I can take it out on Dudders.”

 

They let the conversation peter out as they reached the pub, where Giles was as friendly and as talkative as ever.  

 

“You’ve got the twin room this time,” Giles informed them, making his way up the stairs, and Remus had to restrain himself from letting out a big sigh of relief.

 

Giles carried on chatting, mainly about Cornelius Fudge staying there, as he let them into the room.  It was very spacious compared to the last one they had stayed in, with a table and two chairs on one side as well as a large amount of floor space.  Giles turned to leave. 

 

“What time is breakfast?” Harry asked quickly as Giles was disappearing behind the door.

 

“Will eight o’clock do you?” Giles said, and Harry nodded.  “You were awake all right last time, except for that lazy sod!” Giles pointed an accusative finger in Remus’s direction and smirked before finally leaving.

 

Remus swore silently at Giles for reminding him how he had felt the last morning he woke at the Green Dragon.  This left him feeling tense, and he distracted himself by rifling through his bag for his book.  Looking up, Remus saw that Harry had dumped his things in the middle of the floor and had gone to sit at the table.

 

“I’m famished.  I hope the food will be as good as last time,” Remus stated awkwardly, hoping they would soon get back to their easy banter.  

 

“Same here, although it’s a pity I won’t be getting the same entertainment while I eat,” Harry said with a grin. “Watching you change from Tonks into Remus wearing Tonks’s clothes made it a truly memorable meal!”

 

Remus couldn’t help himself from chuckling at the memory, and he welcomed the chance for some light-hearted conversation.  Before long, Giles arrived with two giant Yorkshire puddings, filled to the brim with vegetables, beef and gravy.  They talked about inconsequential things as they ate, and then Giles returned, giving them a jovial rant as he did so before leaving once more with the empty dishes.  Feeling a lot more comfortable with the situation, Remus didn’t retreat inside his book as soon as they had finished eating, as he had anticipated doing, but ended up continuing to chat with Harry.

 

“So how long do you think we’ll have to wait before the others get bored with abusing us for their own amusement?” Harry asked.

 

“I wouldn’t like to say,” Remus said as he shrugged.  “George and Ron are probably going to be the biggest problems.  I’ve got Tonks under control, and I have my suspicions about Fred, which I hope to use to my own advantage.”

 

“Suspicions? About what?”

 

“The last few occasions they’ve been at Grimmauld Place, I noticed that he was finding a lot of excuses to spend time with Tonks.  I’m sure he’s a bit taken with her.”

 

“I thought he had an odd look on his face when they were reading the part of the transcript about Tonks staying over for the night...”

 

“I didn’t think about that,” Remus chuckled.  “Poor Fred, knowing what you’ve been up to with Tonks!” Remus sat back in his chair, his brows drawing together in thought.  “I suppose that explains why they were willing to keep quiet about that _particular_ indiscretion—after all, Fred wouldn’t want to upset Tonks, if he could avoid it.  But what I don’t understand is how you managed to persuade Fred and George to keep quiet about the rest of it.”

 

“Hermione insisted.  She can be pretty scary at times.”

 

“Even so, she must’ve had a given them a good reason.  I can tell they find it highly frustrating not to be able to make any obvious digs in front of other people.”

 

Harry looked a bit sheepish, and he pulled a face.  “They think I’ve got a huge crush on you that I’m really embarrassed about, and Hermione thought it would be really mean to tell everyone.”

 

Seeing that Harry was not about to elucidate any further, Remus asked, “Harry, _why_ do they think you’ve got a crush on me?”

 

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  “That time they spiked my butterbeer, Fred had asked me if I’d be prepared to kiss you again, and George thought it would be funny to add ‘without the Polyjuice?’ They expected me to instantly deny it, but of course, I couldn’t…”

 

“I see.”  Suddenly, all the little digs and comments seemed to develop that much more meaning.  “Did they ask anything else… incriminating?”

 

“No.  They only asked if I would’ve sent Hedwig in the first place if they hadn’t kidnapped her, which I would’ve done.  That was when Hermione stepped in.  She pinned me down on my own the following day to talk about it, and now she’s decided that it’s got something to do with what happened between me and her.”

 

“So she thinks you were only with her for a distraction, or as a means to reassess your sexuality?”

 

Harry nodded, looking a bit guilty about using her in this way.  “She was a bit peeved at first, but she’s been sympathetic as well.  A whole lot more than Ron has.  I think he’s a bit disturbed by the whole thing, to tell the truth.  You should’ve seen his face when I couldn’t answer the Polyjuice question.  Every now and then, he’ll look at me with a completely bemused expression, muttering, ‘I still don’t get it, _at all_.’”

 

Remus bit his tongue, as the thought _I’m not sure I do, either_ was nearly vocalised.  He didn’t want to be encouraging Harry to list his reasons for why he was interested.  Instead, he commented, “So it makes him uncomfortable, and he’s taken to covering up his uneasiness by making a joke of it?  As if he needs any encouragement to behave like Fred and George; I’m sure Ron is getting more like them the older he gets.”

 

“On the day we went to Hogsmeade, they taught him how to spell ‘Swoony 4 Moony’ over my things,” Harry said with a grimace.  “Every now and then, I’ll open up a book to start reading, or get my broomstick serving kit out, and he’ll have done it again: left the declaration for me, encircled in a bloody love heart!”

 

They both chuckled at this, then Harry added, “He didn’t shut up for days after that last Defence lesson with you.”  He looked up at Remus with a serious expression.  “I was so grateful to be wearing my cloak.”

 

“You’re not the only one who appreciated it,” Remus admitted.

 

“Are the moves we’re covering next term going to be any easier?” 

 

“No, I’m afraid not,” Remus said soberly.  He rubbed his hands across his face in an effort to stop himself from tensing up.  “I’ll get you all to wear cloaks again; it’ll be good practice.  Let’s just hope Miss Granger doesn’t ask me to demonstrate _without_ the cloak at an inopportune moment.”

 

“Why do I find it so difficult?” Harry asked in frustration.

 

“I remember James having a similar problem when we were at Hogwarts, so I think it may have something to do with the skills you use as a Seeker.  The muscle movement probably runs counter to what you’re used to when reacting to catch the Snitch.”

 

“Perhaps you could go through the Defence moves with me now; we’ve got the space.  Then I’ll definitely be able to do them in class, and I won’t need your… help.”

 

Remus looked up at Harry.  They had been talking, and that had been fine.  Temptation hadn’t been an issue, but Remus felt Harry’s suggestion was about to change that.  Going through the defensive moves with Harry would certainly up the ante with regards to his self-control, but he couldn’t ignore Harry’s reasoning.  If they got it over and done with, then they wouldn’t have to worry about any embarrassing exposure.  He nodded reluctantly.

 

“Have you done the essay yet?” he asked.

 

Harry shook his head and grinned.  

 

“I haven’t even decided on what moves you’re going to cover.  I promise I won’t let it slip to anyone which ones we’re doing, except to Hermione and Ron, of course!”

 

Remus pulled a face of mock disdain.  “All right, but I’m only going to show you the moves; I’m not going to talk about any of the theory.”

 

Harry pulled his Defence textbook from his bag, and Remus found the page for the first one they would cover: standing and casting a spell, a roll, followed by another cast.  

 

Although Harry did require some help in places, Remus found that it didn’t involve any prolonged contact.  He was able to intervene relatively quickly and keep his distance somewhat; not having an audience also helped.  With the move successfully completed, Remus offered his hand to pull Harry up, Harry’s hand sliding slightly within his grip thanks to both of their sweaty palms.  Once Harry was upright, their eyes met, and Harry instantly broke all contact, stepping back sharply and turning back towards the book on the table.  Remus stood there awkwardly, watching Harry fumble through the pages.

 

“What’s the next—” Harry began to say, but in his distracted state, he had managed to knock the book to the floor.

 

Remus bent down and retrieved the book.  He placed it on the table and was about to find the next move they’d cover when Harry’s hand rested on the pages, stopping him.

 

“What’s this section about?” Harry asked.

 

Remus glanced down.  The heading _Awareness_ looked back up at him.  

 

“It’s about taking every opportunity to be aware of potential hazards in the place you are going to be duelling,” Remus began.  “So, for example, in a room you’d notice where all the obstacles are: chairs, tables, and the like.  That way you can take them into account when casting and moving, and perhaps use them to your advantage.  It’s also about taking into consideration any other dangerous items lying around such as knives, potential hiding places, and—”

 

“Veils,” Harry finished for him tonelessly.  It hadn’t been what Remus was going to say, but Remus couldn’t disagree with him.

 

“Yes.  And veils.”

 

“Didn’t he cover any of this at school, or afterwards?”

 

“We covered it at Hogwarts, in our seventh year, and he certainly would’ve gone over it as part of his Auror training.  But I doubt that Sirius had really thought about re-studying it, though, not after escaping Azkaban.  I never caught him going over any texts like this one since he was back.”

 

Harry’s fingers began to move slowly over the page, tracing the words under his fingertips.  He took in a deep breath before speaking.

 

“Do you think, that if he—”

 

“Harry, don’t,” Remus interrupted, and he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “Don’t do ‘what if’s.  That’s something you could never know either way.”

 

Harry glanced across at Remus, sadness in his eyes.  Moving away, Harry sat heavily in the chair that was next to him, and Remus followed suit, sitting opposite.  He could imagine how Harry was feeling.  He had felt it himself on more occasions than he cared to remember: the bitter refusal to accept the loss, the desire to change what couldn’t be changed, and the futile hope that it was something you wouldn’t have to go through, ever again.  Remus had tried to tell himself before now that you get used to it, after a while, after so many deaths.  But he had come to the conclusion that you never do; you only learn to pick up the pieces more efficiently each time, you learn how to refocus on other things, other people.  But it still hurts just as much.

 

Harry’s hand was back on the page, tracing the words, his face expressionless.

 

“I hate feeling like this,” Harry said, staring at his fingers as they wandered across the paper.  Remus reached out and laid his hand across Harry’s to still it, causing Harry to look up.  “How do you stand it?”

 

“It doesn’t last forever, Harry.  The feeling does lessen, eventually.”  Remus let his hand move across the back of Harry’s to comfort him.  “It’ll still creep up on you every now and then, but as time passes, it’ll happen less frequently and won’t be as strong.”

 

“How did you cope when you thought Sirius had betrayed my mum and dad, and killed Peter?”

 

Remus’s breath hitched at the unexpected question.

 

“Very badly,” he admitted.  “For months, I spent a lot of time at home, avoiding everyone I could.  Avoiding all those people offering their heartfelt condolences on having lost so many, and on having been betrayed by a _friend_.”  He felt Harry squeeze his hand, and it was then he noticed that Harry had interlaced their fingers whilst he had been talking.  He squeezed back and gave Harry a small smile.  

 

Remus realised that sitting here and discussing death was probably not a good idea. If he wasn't careful, it would only lead to them comforting each other far more intimately than they should.  He gently changed the subject.  

 

“Are you ready to go through the second move?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Their hands separated, and they both directed their attention back to the book.  Remus found the correct place and let Harry take a look at the diagrams.  The move was entitled The Three-Pointer and involved casting whilst standing, a slight turn, casting in a half-crouched position, another turn, and then one last cast from a crouched position.

 

This time, Harry was having a harder time trying to concentrate.  He wasn’t keeping his wand arm high enough, and his turns were unbalanced.  Remus soon gave up merely giving out verbal instructions, instead choosing to stand behind Harry as he carried out the move, guiding him through it.

 

They were close, far too close for comfort.  Remus could smell Harry’s skin clearly, and it had a faint musky scent that reminded him of waking up with his face against Harry’s chest.  His hands were tingling where they rested: one on Harry’s left shoulder and the other on Harry’s right forearm, with the rest of their arms brushing against each other.  Focusing on not breathing too heavily, Remus told himself that this shouldn’t be a problem.  This was just a lesson that he was giving, and Harry was just a student.    

 

As they made the last turn, Harry suddenly stepped back in an effort to stay upright, catching his foot on Remus’s and causing them both to topple backwards onto the floor.  Remus froze as he ended up underneath Harry.  Having Harry flush against his body instantly began to turn him on.  He swallowed as Harry got to his knees and unintentionally brushed against Remus’s groin. 

 

“Are you all right?” Harry asked.

 

Remus nodded awkwardly, trying not to think how much he wanted to pull Harry downwards and start kissing him.  

 

“Help me up,” Remus prompted.  

 

Harry moved back slightly, taking one of Remus’s hands and helping to pull him upright.  Once standing, Remus took a moment to brush himself off.  

 

“Right, why don’t you see if you can run through it by yourself, without me getting in the way and risking two broken necks,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

 

Harry let out a breath, and then went through the move once more.  To Remus’s immense relief, Harry managed to get the essentials right, even if he was lacking a lot of finesse.  

 

“That’s fine, Harry.  Just keep practising it and there shouldn’t be any problems in the lesson next term.”  

 

Harry stretched as he straightened up, turning to look directly at Remus.  The look was predatory, and Remus could feel the same desire mirrored within himself.

 

“I’m… I’m going to take a shower,” Remus stammered, picking up his bag and bustling out of the bedroom.  An exceptionally cold one, he added silently.

But he couldn’t get it cold enough.  The icy water just wasn’t tempering his libido, the urge to get too close to… _my student,_ he told himself forcibly.  He didn’t want to go back out there, like this, with only a fragment of self-control holding him in check.  Banging his head against the side of the shower in frustration, he resigned himself to self-gratification, hoping it would take the edge off of his temptation, letting go with a loud groan of release.

 

Knowing he had been in there quite a while, Remus rinsed himself off and quickly dried and dressed.  He stepped back into the bedroom, looking sheepishly at Harry, who was sitting on one of the beds.

 

“I think those walls are a bit on the thin side,” Harry commented.

 

Remus blanched, and he felt even more off-balance when Harry threw him a lop-sided grin.  

 

“Harry, I don’t think—”

 

“Look, Remus,” Harry interrupted. “I can’t do this.  What I mean is… I can’t _not_ do this.  _This_ is ridiculous.  Right now, all I want to do is… well, you know what I want.  At a guess, I’d say it’s exactly the same as what you want.”  Harry stopped to give Remus a look that dared him to deny it.  

 

Unable to disagree, Remus remained silent. 

 

“But why aren’t we?  Because I’m your student? Tell me, who’s going to find out, Remus? How is this any more likely to be made public than the last time?”   Not waiting for Remus to reply, Harry stood up, running his hands through his hair.  “It’s a bit late to be worried about Dumbledore.  I bet you should’ve told him about us before you started teaching again.  But you didn’t though, did you?”

 

Harry paused, looking at Remus for an answer, and Remus shook his head dumbly.

 

“Then tell me why this is going to make such a huge difference to the secret we’ve already got? Give me a _better_ reason why we can’t.”

 

“I don’t think I _can_ give you a better reason,” Remus finally admitted, and he added, “That was a well-thought-out argument, Harry.”

 

“I’ve had quite a while to think about it; you’ve been in the shower a rather long time,” Harry pointed out with a smug grin. 

 

He walked closer until he was standing barely inches from Remus’s face.

 

“It… it wasn’t… cold enough…” Remus trailed off, feeling Harry’s breath ghosting over his skin.

 

“So I heard.” 

 

Harry closed the remaining gap between them.  There was nothing Remus could do; there was no resistance he could offer.  He buckled, kissing back, letting himself go, and throwing all his pent-up frustrations in Harry’s direction.  There was no looking back now.  All thoughts of his responsibilities were thrown to the wind, and there were only three words echoing round his head: _I’ve missed this._

 


	6. Remus Revisited: The Ability to Move On.

_“I’ve got dosed by you,_

_Closer than most to you,_

_What am I supposed to do?_

_Take it away: I never had it anyway._

_Take it away and everything will be okay.”_

_\- Red Hot Chili Peppers: “Dosed”_

 

***

 

Remus couldn’t say exactly when it was that he fell in love with Sirius.  Growing up as a werewolf, he had soon learnt to appreciate his own company and ended up as a bit of a loner; he could quite happily live his life keeping an emotional distance from all those around him, even his friends.  But at some point during his seventh year at Hogwarts, he realised that this was no longer the case.  He knew that if he lost Sirius, his own emotionally-barricaded little world would no longer be the same oasis it had once been.  When Sirius had been sent to Azkaban, and then again when Sirius died, Remus found that his previous lonely existence was now no more than a cold, empty space.  Falling in love had crept up on him slowly.  Perhaps he was already in love before they had become intimate, and the physical closeness only served to cement his feelings further.  

 

Remus took the first step down that road of emotional dependency when Sirius finally made a move on him.  It was during the summer holidays, after Sirius had been able to buy his own flat.  Remus, James, and Peter had already stayed over a couple of times.  Lily had also turned up, once, with James, but she chose not to stay too long in what she disdainfully referred to as their “testosterone-laden hovel”.  The last visit of the holidays occurred a few days before the new term began.  Remus ended up staying there until the train journey back to Hogwarts, only briefly returning home to collect his school things.  

 

Prior to this, Remus had firmly pushed the possibility of any sort of romantic relationship with Sirius out of his mind.  It would never work: they were both male and Remus was a werewolf.  _If_ Sirius knew, _if_ Sirius wasn’t freaked out, and _if_ Sirius _was_ interested, Remus would never expect Sirius to alter the way he lived his life.  He’d never ask Sirius to change in order to accommodate the complications associated with Remus being a werewolf, especially once they left Hogwarts.  There was no point in investing in a relationship that seemed to be doomed from the start; it wouldn’t be fair on Sirius.  But Sirius had a habit of putting his foot down and deciding for himself what was and wasn’t fair…

            

Sirius, James and Remus had spent the previous evening getting excessively drunk on firewhisky.  Although Peter had stayed over as well, he remained sober, as he had to visit some relatives early in the morning.  The other three remained unconscious, oblivious to Peter’s exit, cocooned in bed sheets and duvets, which Sirius had drunkenly dragged into the room in the early hours of the morning.  Having made the effort to provide bedding for everyone else, Sirius never made it to his own bed, but had ended up passing out, sprawled in a duvet in the corner of the room.  

 

It was around mid-day when the rest of them finally surfaced, with abandoned bottles, food cartons, chess pieces, and a pack of Exploding Snap cards strewn between the sleeping bodies.  James was the first to rise, suddenly jumping up and rushing round, breathlessly saying, “I’m late; I’m going to be late! Lily is going to kill me!” Remus could hear Sirius chuckling in the corner, followed by a muffled “Ow!” as James threw a pillow at him.  Sirius, from where he was nestled in a duvet, looked over and caught Remus’s eye.

 

“Don’t you dare leave me to clean this mess up by myself, Moony!”

 

Remus gave a sly grin, as if threatening to mull over the idea.  “Are you going to make it worth my while?” he jested.

 

Sirius winked and simply said, “You’ll see.”

 

Once James had left and they had started to tidy up, Remus caught Sirius frequently looking at him with an odd expression.

 

“What’s up with you?” Remus asked.

 

“I want to talk to you,” Sirius said, far too earnestly for Remus’s liking.  “But you’ll have to wait until we’ve finished this: I don’t want the risk of you running out on me when there’s still work to be done!”

 

This intrigued Remus, but it also worried him slightly.  Sirius was looking pensive for a change, and Remus mulled over what he would want to talk about as Sirius messed around in a sloppy attempt to clear the mountain of rubbish they had accumulated.

 

“So what is it?” Remus asked, sitting down on the sofa after they had finished.   

 

Sirius sat down heavily next to Remus, sideways, with his legs folded up in front of him. 

 

“Am I right in thinking,” Sirius began, “that you’ve said you don’t want to get involved with any women for the following two reasons: one, they’d have to know about you being a werewolf beforehand, and two, the Ministry would give you grief in case you got some girl knocked up with werewolf cubs?”

 

“Er, yes.  Although I probably would’ve worded it differently,” Remus replied tentatively, looking at Sirius suspiciously and wondering where he was going with this.  He certainly hoped it wasn’t anything as crass as a blind date; Remus thought Sirius knew him better than that.  At the time, he had had no idea where it had all been leading, and he was half-expecting Sirius to say someone else had found out that he was a werewolf.  

 

“Sirius, get to the point.”

 

“The point is, I have a solution to your non-existent love life that takes both of your _excuses_ into consideration.”

 

“Sirius—” Remus started to protest; it seemed that someone _had_ found out.  But Sirius cut him off. 

 

“Now I’ll admit there’s a bit of a catch…”

 

“A catch?” Remus repeated cautiously.

 

Sirius chewed on his lip for a moment before responding.  “I’m the one who’s interested.”

 

It had been that simple for Sirius.  He knew he wanted something, he worked out what it was, and then he went for it.  Sirius was never one to be cursed with a mental fog.  Remus was stumped.  He was being propositioned by one of his best friends, the same friend he had had a crush on for so long.  He could only assume that Sirius was jesting with him.  

 

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Remus said dryly.

 

“Don’t look at me like that.  I mean it!”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“I’ve freaked you out, haven’t I?”

 

Remus felt numb as he realized Sirius was sitting there looking far more anxious than Remus had ever seen him.  Apparently, this was no prank that was being played out.

 

“I… You…” he stuttered, trying to find the words to express everything he felt inside at that moment: his delight in knowing that Sirius wanted to be more than just friends, but also his worries about them having a relationship, and his fears that it couldn’t work.  “I don’t know what you think you want from me, Sirius.  It’s not as if we could have any sort of normal… relationship.  We’re both male… and what with me being a werewolf—”  

 

“So, who’s written the book on what a normal relationship should be like?” Sirius asked, shifting closer towards Remus.  “You know I’ve always had a distinct lack of respect for doing what’s considered normal and appropriate.  I think we should make up our own rules, seeing how… unique our situation is.”

 

Remus couldn’t think of anything else to say.  He felt his heart beating faster and his breathing deepen as Sirius leaned forwards to brush his lips against Remus’s.  

 

At first, the kiss was a clumsy affair, but once his nerves were overcome and he realised that, yes, they were really kissing, it soon became more and more heated.  They pressed up against each other, desperately indulging in their newly-found contact, the sexual urgency building rapidly.  But then, just as rapidly, Remus felt the desire begin to wash away, to be replaced by a feeling of affection, of tenderness.  The kisses became softer and more leisurely.  The taste of the lips Remus was kissing changed; the body over which his hands ran was different, longer, than Sirius’s.  He was kissing Harry, and Harry was lazily kissing him back.  They were wrapped together under the blankets, sated, just brushing their lips against each other’s and waiting for sleep to eventually take them.  

 

***

 

Remus breathed in deeply as he stirred from the dream, and he smiled at the memory of how they had fallen asleep the night before.  He felt energised after being this close to Harry once more.  Closer, he corrected himself, closer than the previous night that they had shared.  It was like falling back into a welcome familiarity, rather than a tantalising newness.  This time, it was _Harry_ that he had been with, and not just Harry’s body; it wasn’t just a convenient outlet for Remus’s loss, or his loneliness.  Harry was no longer a substitute for Sirius.  He was someone who Remus was beginning to feel affection for, like he had in the early days of his relationship with Sirius.  Remus recognised the underlying need for this to develop into something so much more than friendship, and he was saddened to know that the opportunity for it to happen just didn’t exist.   

 

 

Smiling fondly, Remus reached out and brushed an errant strand of hair from Harry’s forehead.  He leant down to replace the strand of hair with a touch of his lips.  Drawing back, he saw Harry’s eyes flicker open, and for a while, they lay there in silence, gazing at each other, Harry reaching out to run a hand through Remus’s hair and Remus tracing the outline of Harry’s jaw.  Remus didn’t want this moment to end, for them to have to get up, for Harry to go back to the Dursley’s.  But as more time passed, the more the moment was being spoiled with the awareness that they needed to be presentable for when Giles arrived with breakfast.

 

He felt Harry put a slight pressure on the back of his head, pulling him down to Harry’s lips.  Stale breath greeted him, but he kissed anyway, needing the connection more than he needed the details to be perfect.  Harry shifted, and Remus felt Harry’s body line up along his own, felt Harry’s hardness rub against his.  Remus moaned, running his hands run down Harry’s back, wishing they didn’t have to stop there, needing more time.  He resisted as Harry pulled back, perplexed by the decisive expression upon Harry’s face.  Breaking their contact completely, Harry jumped out of bed and then began rummaging amongst his belongings.

 

“Giles won’t be up for nearly an hour,” Harry commented as he placed a Muggle alarm clock on the bedside table next to Remus. 

 

Remus stared in surprise at the timepiece in front of him, which showed that it was just after seven.  Looking back over his shoulder, he could see Harry was now on the other bed in the room, hastily messing up the neatly made bedding and making it appear slept in.  Harry then disappeared in the shower room, and Remus could hear running water and the sound of Harry brushing his teeth.

 

“Go and clean your mouth out,” Harry ordered with a grin as he stepped back into the room.  “I want to kiss you properly, without distractions.”

 

Remus didn’t need telling twice.  Within a couple of minutes, he was making his way back to bed.  Glancing at the clock once more, Remus frowned.

 

“Harry, why _did_ you bring an alarm clock?”

 

“Just in case you changed your mind,” Harry said bluntly, giving him a disarmingly cheeky smile.

 

Remus pursed his lips in an effort to restrain the laugh that was threatening to break.  He tried to look condescending, but couldn’t quite pull it off. 

 

“Does that bother you?” Harry asked as he moved over to make room for Remus to lie next to him.

 

“Not as much as it should,” Remus replied, drawing Harry closer.  “Not now that I know we have more time in be—”

 

Harry cut him off with his mouth, and they slid against each other, tongues sweeping together, with the taste of fresh mint.  Remus wrapped his hands around Harry, moaning into Harry’s mouth.  

 

“Harry,” he gasped as Harry drew back slightly.  He saw Harry’s eyes flash with mischief before Harry leant forward, placing his lips by Remus’s ear.

 

“Professor,” he said huskily.

 

Remus shuddered.  “That’s… that’s not fair.  You’re not allowed to use that word to turn me on.”

 

“You’re only saying that because you think it _shouldn’t_ turn you on, even though it does,” Harry pointed out.  “I promise I won’t tell, _Professor_.”

 

Remus let his head fall back onto the pillow and groaned.  Looking up at Harry, he gave a sly smile.  “Well, if you’re going to persist, you might as well do it properly.  Why don’t you go and get your robes on?”

 

Harry obliged, and they made the most of their remaining time alone.  The robes did not last long before they were a heap on the floor, along with the rest of their clothing that had been abandoned the night before.

 

A little while later, and in high spirits after having had the extra time for intimacy with Harry, Remus was finally up and getting dressed.  Giles soon arrived with the breakfast, complaining about the state of one of the beds—the one they had shared—as he did so.  

 

Remus and Harry chatted while they ate, and after they had finished and the empty dishes taken away by Giles, Harry started to go through his things once more.  Finally he stood up, holding out a rectangular package, which was covered in Christmas wrapping paper.  Remus was surprised.  He hadn’t even considered getting any presents this year, and he certainly hadn’t expected anything from Harry.

 

“It’s not much,” Harry said, handing over the present.  “But I saw this in Hogsmeade and thought of you.  You might find it interesting, and amusing; the style’s very tongue-in-cheek.

 

“I didn’t want to send it to you at Grimmauld Place,” Harry added.  “In case anyone thought it a bit odd that I was giving you a present.”

 

“Thank you,” Remus said, smiling as he began to tear the paper.  Inside was a book, _A Werewolf’s Survival Guide to the Wizarding World_.  The author’s name wasn’t stated, the book being attributed to “an anonymous werewolf”.

 

“For all I know, you’re the one who’s actually written it,” Harry joked.

 

“No.  It wasn’t me,” Remus said as he glanced at the description on the cover.  He was sure that it would make for an entertaining read.  “Thank you very much, Harry.”

 

After seeing Harry safely to Privet Drive, Remus returned to Grimmauld Place with mixed feelings.  On the one hand, he was disconcerted by the strength of what he now felt towards Harry, on the other, he couldn’t restrain the good mood he was in.  Thanks to Harry’s present, Remus’s Christmas spirit had been reignited.  He decided to send Harry a small vial of Sleeping Draught as a Christmas present—something that would stop Harry from being too verbal in his sleep.  This meant that Dudley would no longer be able to give Harry grief over the content of his dreams.  Remus also made a point of writing several letters, to make up for Harry’s lack of contact with anyone from Hogwarts.  And remembering that Harry wouldn’t be able to keep up to date with what was going on in the wizarding world, Remus arranged for Harry to receive the _Daily Prophet_ each day. 

            

Remus wasn’t as melancholy over Christmas as he had anticipated.  Although it was strange, being there with no Sirius, his absence didn’t eat away at Remus; instead, he was pleasantly distracted by thoughts of Harry.  Remus was also no longer plagued by dreams of Sirius, and he hardly woke up in the midst of dreams at all—whenever he did, it was Harry who was in them.  Remus couldn’t deny that he was particularly looking forward to the end of the holidays, when he would be staying with Harry at the Green Dragon once more.  Having finally come to terms with the fact that he was in an illicit relationship with a student, Remus felt far more relaxed about their situation.  On the whole, Remus felt cheerful, even to the extent of catching himself occasionally humming away while reading or doing housework.   

 

Remus often found himself wondering what Harry was doing with himself over the holidays, and he had to resist the urge to telephone him.  He was also tempted to Apparate to Privet Drive, but he knew he wouldn’t get away with any magic while he was there, and they would at least require a Silencing Charm for what he had in mind.  It would also be quite risky if he was seen by anyone in the Dursley household, especially if news of his visit made its way back to the other members of the Order.  In the end, he decided upon asking to say a few words to Harry when Hermione next phoned him.  But he changed his mind as he approached the kitchen door and overheard part of Hermione’s conversation with Harry.

 

“I hardly think it was appropriate for him to teach you defensive moves in private, given the circumstances.”

 

He stopped by the door that stood slightly ajar, listening as Hermione continued.

 

“Harry, it’s obvious he’s realised you’ve got a crush on him.  That’s why he insisted on wearing cloaks during the last Defence class; he was worried you might have a… er… _you know…_ that you’d want to cover up.”

 

Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, Remus silently made his way back upstairs, frustrated that he would have to wait until the end of the holidays before he could talk to Harry.  

 

The next morning as he was going down to breakfast, Hermione asked an unexpected question.  

 

“If there was someone who had an inappropriate crush on you, you’d try to discourage it, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yes.  Yes, of course I would,” he automatically lied, wincing inside at the way she appeared to be analysing him.  “What makes you ask that?”

 

“Oh, no reason,” she said offhandedly as she entered the kitchen.

 

The kitchen was bustling with the activity of breakfast being prepared, and Remus offered to help Molly, but she waved a hand in Fred and George’s direction.

 

“I’ve got them doing something useful, for a change.”     

 

Fred and George sighed dramatically and made a big display at having to cook the eggs, bacon and sausages.  Chuckling, Remus opened his new book and began to read, occasionally looking over at the twins to check they weren’t putting anything they shouldn’t in with the food.

 

“Who’s up for a cuppa?” Fred asked, and Remus couldn’t mistake the note of mischief in his voice.  

 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Remus said as Fred looked enquiringly at him. 

 

“Are you sure?” Molly asked.  

 

“I’ll get myself something later.  I don’t particularly trust your two sons when it comes to drinks, not after hearing about their latest creation.”

 

Molly tutted, and Remus could hear her muttering under her breath about “childish truth or dare concoctions”.

 

“Have you got something to hide, then?” George asked with a grin, and Remus noticed Hermione quickly glancing in his direction.

 

“Everyonehas _something_ to hide,” Remus replied, looking pointedly at Fred.  

 

Fred stared back at him quizzically.  

 

Once breakfast had finished and Remus was making his way back up to his room, Fred and George followed him out of the kitchen.

 

“What did you mean by that comment?” George asked, stopping him in the hallway.

 

“Why were you looking at me?” Fred added.

 

Remus gave Fred a knowing smile. 

 

“It’s obvious that you’re interested in Tonks.  Why don’t you do anything about it?”

 

At the mention of Tonks’s name, George started to laugh.

 

“From what I hear,” Remus continued, “you were never one to be shy at asking the ladies out at Hogwarts.”

 

“He really likes this one,” George said as Fred stood there looking embarrassed.  “It matters.  So he clams up and can’t say anything, because he’s afraid he’s going to mess it up.  I’ve told him he’s being an idiot, but he still won’t ask her out.”

 

“In my own time…”

 

“If you don’t take the initiative, she might end up getting involved with someone else, and then it’ll be too late,” Remus pointed out.

 

“Yeah, I’ve told him that too, but he won’t listen,” George said, grinning with amusement.

 

“Perhaps it’s his ego stopping him,” Remus suggested with a smirk.  He turned to Fred.  “Are you worried that you’ll get turned down, when Harry wasn’t?”

 

Fred glared at him.  

 

“He’s also got Mum to worry about,” George said.  “He knows Mum will have something to say about going out with an older woman.”

 

“Molly? She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Remus asked, wondering what Molly could have against Fred dating Tonks.  After all, the age difference certainly wasn’t that substantial.

 

“She wasn’t when Charlie started dating someone older than him, and that was only a five year age gap, too," Fred pointed out.  "That was when he first went out to Romania, and she threw a fit.”

 

“You can’t let that stop you.  Even if Molly doesn’t like the idea, I’m sure she’d soon come round, especially once she realises how serious you are.”

 

“That’s if he ever gets around to asking her out in the first place!”

 

By the time the end of the holidays came round, Fred still hadn’t approached Tonks.  Remus chuckled to himself over this as he collected his things together, packing for his return to Hogwarts.  Fastening the catch on the top of his case, he caught himself humming once more.  He shook his head bemusedly, folding his cloak up and tucking it across his arm.  All he needed now was his book, the one that Harry had bought him, but he couldn’t find it anywhere in the room.  So he made his way downstairs, assuming that he must’ve left it there the night before.  Entering the kitchen, he found Hermione engrossed within its pages.

 

“Are you finding it interesting?” he asked, causing Hermione to look up.

 

She nodded, and then glanced down at his bag and cloak.  “Time to collect Harry?”

 

“Yes.  We’ll be meeting you tomorrow at the station.”

 

She closed the book and handed it over.  “Don’t worry, I haven’t lost your place; the bookmark’s still there.”

 

Remus and Harry spent a lot more time in bed that night, indulging in their privacy once they were sure Giles wouldn’t be returning again until morning.  They both realised that the next time they could be alone together in the same way might not be for a while.  Harry wouldn’t need to return to Privet Drive until Easter at the earliest.  But even this might not happen, Remus acknowledged sadly, with Harry possibly not going back until the end of the summer term.  And so, with a whole evening ahead of them, they took the opportunity to leisurely explore every last inch of each other, immersing themselves in the moment.

 

The following morning, they found plenty to talk about, discussing the Christmas holidays and Dudley’s disappointment that Harry hadn’t been beaten up by “Tonks’s older brother”.  Remus was thoroughly enjoying Harry’s company.  Harry went on to mention his telephone conversation with Hermione, which left Remus feeling a bit disconcerted.  He admitted to overhearing part of what had been said, but dismissed Hermione’s comments, saying that there were far worse things that Hermione could be aware of, and what she did know was hardly going to rock the boat. 

 

“And it’s not as if we’ve got any plans to publicly start dating!” Remus joked.

 

“No,” Harry said, laughing weakly.  “I guess, when it comes down to it, we’re just using each other.”

 

Remus gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  He nodded gently and reached out to run a hand through Harry’s hair, letting his gaze wander across Harry’s features.  “It _can’t_ mean anything.”  Remus pressed a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips.  “And no one need ever find out just how we’ve spent our time together.”  

 

“I don’t mind being used by you,” Harry said, kissing Remus back.  “After all, I’m only getting what I can before the inevitable with Voldemort.  The way I see it, there’s no point in saving myself for anyone, or pretending to get involved in something long-term.” 

 

Inside, Remus winced at Harry’s attitude towards his own life.  Harry was too young to have gained such a cynical outlook; it wasn’t fair that he had been placed in these circumstances.  It also reminded Remus of his own perspective on living when he was younger: why pretend to get involved with anyone, when being a werewolf precluded anything long-term from occurring?  In a small way, he understood what Harry was feeling, and this empathy made Remus want to change Harry’s life in a manner that he knew wouldn’t be possible.  All he could do was to pull Harry close and kiss him tenderly.

 

Later on that morning, they met up with Hermione and Ron at the station.  Remus considered that his time on the train journey would be best spent patrolling the train.  Perhaps later he could find an empty compartment in which he could catch up on some sleep.  

 

As he was leaving the others to make his way up the train, Hermione called out, “Professor, as you’re going to be patrolling the train, I was wondering if I could borrow your book again.  I’ll give it back to you, once we get to Hogwarts.”

 

“By all means, Hermione,” Remus said, reaching into his bag to pull the book out.  

 

“Did you get much reading done last night?” she asked casually as he handed it over, causing Remus to do a double-take.  He hadn’t read a single word, but to avoid questions of how the time was spent he didn’t admit to this.

 

“A bit,” he mumbled, smiling before walking away from them.     

 

Remus was only due to remain at Hogwarts for a week before he had to return to Grimmauld Place because of the full moon.  He immediately settled back into teaching and didn’t encounter any problems with teaching Harry; they shared a few brief glances, but that was all.  It seemed to Remus that Harry was going to continue avoiding him outside of the classroom.  But on the Wednesday, Harry unexpectedly approached Remus in the corridor at lunchtime.  

 

“Professor, can I speak with you about… er, the homework?”

 

Remus smiled and nodded, immediately leading the way to his office.  As he closed the door behind them, he noticed that Harry looked pale and was fidgeting with the strap of his bag.

 

“I thought you ought to know,” Harry began tentatively. “Hermione’s guessed.”

 

“Guessed?” Remus asked, hoping it wasn’t what Harry seemed to be implying. 

 

“She told me she thought something was up during the last Defence lesson.  She didn’t understand why you chose to end the lesson early when she asked for a demonstration without the cloak—not unless you were affected in the same way that I was.  And you already know that she thought the private tutoring was a bit suspect,” Harry said, continuing to fiddle with his bag.  “Apparently, you were also _too_ cheerful over the holidays; she expected you to be more closed off, seeing as it was the first Christmas since Sirius died.  She didn’t believe you would have got over the death of such a close friend so easily without having some sort of distraction,” he explained.  “So before you left to collect me, she had made a note of where you were up to in your book.  When she borrowed it on the train back to Hogwarts, you told her that you’d spent some of the time reading—I told her that, as well.  But she checked on the train; the marker was on the same page, and she knows you’re a stickler for keeping your place.”

 

Harry sighed before continuing.  “I tried to talk my way around it and think of a reason, but she wasn’t having any of it.  Then she asked me where I’d got the love bite from.  I couldn’t stop the look of panic on my face; I thought it was something I’d overlooked.  Of course, there wasn’t any love bite, but my reaction nailed the lid on the coffin.”

 

“Oh,” Remus said dumbly, not knowing what else to say to this revelation.  His mind had gone blank.  He didn’t know what this meant for his relationship with Harry, but he knew it couldn’t be good.  

 

“She wants to speak to you about it.”

 

“Oh,” Remus said once again, more stiffly this time.  “What else did she say?”

 

“She’s not happy.  She ranted on at me about your responsibility to Professor Dumbledore, and how she’s now expected to keep secrets herself, especially from Ron.  She’s not impressed with what we’ve been doing, and you’re far from being her favourite person at the moment.”

 

“Do you think she’ll say anything to anyone else?”

 

“No.  She did threaten to, but I don’t think she will.  At least, certainly not until after she’s talked to you.”

 

“Thanks for warning me, Harry.”

 

“What do you think you’ll say to her?” 

 

“I honestly don’t know.”

 

Harry stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Remus’s arm.  Smiling softly, Remus leaned in to let their lips gently connect.  He wanted more, but he knew this was neither the time nor the place.

 

“Harry, you’d better get back to your friends.  If you stay any longer...” Remus trailed off, not wanting to verbalise what he would be at risk of doing.  Instead, he pointed out the reason that was stopping him from indulging any further.  “Someone could come up to my office and find us.”

 

After Harry had left, Remus sat down behind his desk, mulling over what Hermione had said to Harry.  Remus did not appreciate this turn of events.  Just when he had got used to the idea of continuing to be this intimate with Harry, of the possibility of a relationship—even if it was somewhat dysfunctional—someone had to find out.  He tried to think of reasons why it wasn’t any of Hermione’s business, and why she shouldn’t get involved.  But he suspected that if she was determined what he and Harry were doing was wrong, none of his reasons would affect how the conversation would pan out.

 

It was the end of the week before Hermione finally approached him.  He was about to return to Grimmauld Place, feeling relieved that he had managed to avoid a confrontation so far.  He had just made it past the doors to the Great Hall when he heard her call out behind him.

 

“Professor Lupin, may I have a word please?”

 

Remus stopped where he was, making no move to go to his office.  He hoped she wouldn’t attempt to address the subject if she was forced to talk to him in public.  He knew he was only delaying the inevitable, but as far as he was concerned, he could quite happily put off talking to Hermione indefinitely.

 

“Of course, Hermione, what can I help you with?”

 

“Well, I’m having a few problems,” she said, fixing him with a steely gaze.  “It’s a bit embarrassing… Do you mind going through it with me—in private?”

 

Remus sighed, unable to think of a reasonable excuse to avoid the discussion.  For all intents and purposes, she was a student asking for help, even if he did know the real motivation behind her request.

 

“Very well,” he responded stonily before making his way back to his office.

 

“I suppose Harry’s told you,” she said once Remus had closed the door.  

 

Remus nodded soberly.

 

“You can’t carry on doing this,” Hermione insisted.

 

Remus was stunned that she felt she it was her business to interfere, and he was unable to hold back the annoyance in his voice as he spoke.

 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t.  It’s all been kept behind closed doors,” he pointed out.  “It’s not as if anything has happened in school time or anywhere at Hogwarts,” he added, choosing to ignore the kiss they had shared earlier in the week. 

 

“But how much longer will you be able to keep it out of school?  I can’t see Harry waiting patiently until he goes back to the Dursley’s.”  Hermione looked at him, waiting for a response, but Remus could offer nothing, knowing full well it was already going down the route that she was suggesting.  “You said it yourself, before, that you used to go to school with his father, and you’re over twice his age.  And there’s also the fact that he’s _underage._   You know that you’d both get into a lot of trouble if it got out.”

 

“I don’t intend for anyone to find out.”  

 

Even before Hermione opened her mouth to reply, Remus knew what she would say.

 

“ _I_ found out.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anyone else has to,” he said weakly, although it was obvious that there was going to be no guarantee that their relationship would be kept secret.

 

“Look, I gave him these and a whole heap of other reasons why it shouldn’t continue, but I never told him the main one—the most important one.”

 

Remus frowned at her, puzzled.

 

“It’s not fair on Harry,” she stated baldly.

 

“But we’re just—”

 

“Using each other.  Yes, Harry told me that, but I don’t believe him.  I can tell you mean a lot more to him than he’s prepared to admit, even to himself.”  

 

Remus automatically drew in a breath, chastising himself for not acknowledging that this could happen.  That Harry would become too attached, just as Remus already had.  Hermione spoke again.

 

“You know there isn’t any future in your… relationship with him.”          

 

“He claims not to care about the future.  He can’t… at least, not at the moment.”

 

“But when he finally can, because you know that one day he will, all he’ll be aware of is that you can’t be a part of it, not in the way that he’d like you to be.  What you two have…it can never be anything more, and Harry is going to get hurt, one way or another.  Don't you think it would be best if you ended it sooner rather than later—before he starts to feel more for you than he already does?”

 

Hermione stopped, and looked searchingly at Remus.  He was at a loss for words.

 

“I… I never realised he felt so strongly,” Remus admitted.  He’d never even considered it, and causing Harry pain was the last thing he wanted to do.

 

“You don’t want to hurt him, do you?”

 

Remus shook his head.  He couldn’t let Harry become any more attached to him, and he didn’t want to be responsible for holding Harry back.  Just how much would Harry miss out on if Remus continued with their relationship? He felt he had no business letting Harry get emotionally involved with a werewolf who was old enough to be his father.  It hadn’t worked out between him and Sirius, and it wasn’t about to work between him and Harry.  He had held Sirius back, and it was only after Azkaban that Sirius had been able to break away from their restrictive situation.  His relationship with Sirius had only ended after they’d both realised the devastation that keeping it a secret had caused.  He couldn’t bear to risk a disturbance of that kind, again, and certainly not with Harry.  

 

“Don’t you think you should be doing the right thing then?” Hermione asked.  “That you should break away from him before he… cares… _too_ much?”

 

“I need to think about this.”  Hermione frowned at his evasiveness, and he continued.  “I understand what you are saying, Hermione.  But I really think he needs _someone_ at the moment.”

 

“But why should that be you?  Why can’t he have someone who he can tell people about?”

 

“I’m not saying that it _should_ be me—”

 

“But if you continue to see each other, he won't even attempt to get close enough to anyone else to start a relationship with them.”

 

Remus nodded reluctantly, the reality concerning his age and position creeping up on him.  He wanted to be able to comfort Harry while he was still dealing with Sirius’s death and to be there while Harry was in limbo because of Voldemort.  But he _didn’t_ want to be the reason that Harry couldn’t move on, once the prophecy had been fulfilled.  And he couldn’t accept the possibility of Harry not surviving.  Harry _had_ to make it through this; Remus wasn’t able to think about it being resolved any other way.  

 

“Promise me, Hermione, that you won’t say anything about this yourself—that you’ll let me be the one to tell him?” 

 

“I won’t say a word.  When are you going to talk to him?”

 

“I have a train to catch shortly, so I think it best if I wait until I return.”

 

He felt disorientated as he made his way back to Grimmauld Place.  In his heart, he knew that Hermione was right.  It seemed that after one brief conversation it was all over, for good.  He didn’t know how he would tell Harry.  He didn’t have a clue what he could say, but he was sure that it would be better if it ended now rather than later, before Harry—before either of them—became any more emotionally involved than they already were.  

 

Hermione had stated the truth he’d known all his life: it was impossible for him to have a relationship with Harry, or anyone else.  It seemed any relationships he had would always involve keeping secrets, and that was not healthy in a long-term commitment.  It was time to face up to reality and to break away from Harry: it wasn’t fair to distract Harry at this time in his life.  And if someone was needed to escort Harry in the future, Remus would have to make sure that he wouldn’t be available.  He wondered how Harry would take it.  Harry would know how difficult Remus would find it to resist, and that Remus would therefore have to avoid all potentially intimate situations.  One worry stuck out in his mind: _I only hope we can somehow keep our friendship._


	7. .  Remus Reconstructed: The Ability to Learn from the Past.

“You’re too fond of keeping secrets, Remus,” Sirius stated, looking up and placing his mug of coffee back on the table. 

 

Remus considered the face before him.  It was thinner than it used to be, worn and tired looking, with many more lines, highlighting the years that Remus and Sirius had lived apart.  They had been briefly reunited at the Shrieking Shack last year, before Remus went back to his familiar daily life, trying desperately not to focus on the revelation that Sirius hadn’t betrayed anyone, and that Sirius was free from Azkaban prison, albeit in a place that was out of Remus’s reach.  His memories of the time before, of what he and Sirius had shared, were not relevant to their situation: their lives didn’t overlap, and there was no option of becoming intimate.  But now, Sirius had entered his life once more to lie low at Remus’s house, until they heard further from Albus Dumbledore.  

 

When Sirius arrived they exchanged the same warm hug as was done the previous year, only this was tempered on Sirius’s side by his need for food.  In the days that had followed, they had spent a great deal of time discussing Harry and also what Voldemort might be planning next.  Today, Remus couldn’t hold back any longer from asking Sirius whether they could have their old relationship back.  He was dismayed when the conversation didn’t go as well as he had hoped.

 

“I don’t see why it should be something that has to be announced,” Remus protested, all the while trying to keep his tone light and noncommittal.

 

“It would affect other people, no matter how hard you try to conceal it,” Sirius explained, looking as if he had something further to say, but was in two minds about voicing it.  

 

Remus wrapped his hands around his mug, letting the warmth permeate his skin, hoping it might somehow warm up the chilly feeling that was beginning to spread throughout his stomach.  Sirius looked far too contemplative for Remus’s liking, with his brow furrowed and teeth gnawing against his bottom lip.  

 

“Spit it out, Sirius,” Remus insisted.  

 

“Fourteen years ago, you didn’t want to admit to anyone what we had.”  Sirius paused to take a deep breath.  “Maybe if Albus had known, he wouldn’t have expected you to be Snivellus’s contact.  He certainly wouldn’t have asked you to keep it a secret from me.  I wouldn’t have mistrusted you, and I wouldn’t have insisted that Wormtail take my place as James and Lily’s Secret-Keeper.” 

 

At his words, the atmosphere between them suddenly became very tense, and Remus dropped his gaze to the floor.  He didn’t need that painful reminder.  He was well aware of how events had panned out previously, and he couldn’t stop the feeling that it had all been his fault.

 

“Remus, stop looking so guilty,” Sirius said, his voice softer now.  “I’ve said that I forgive you for what happened, and I meant it.  But I’m not about to put myself in the same situation, not again.”  

 

Sirius placed a hand on Remus’s forearm, and Remus gave a weak smile at the earnest expression on Sirius’s face.  

 

“And that’s not the only reason, Remus,” Sirius said, smiling sadly back at him.  “I’ve also got to consider Harry.  For thirteen years of his life, I haven’t been around to take care of him.  You’ve got to appreciate that my priorities in life now lie with my godson, and I wouldn’t be prepared to lie to Harry about something like this.  I don’t want to lose his trust.”  

 

“I understand,” Remus acknowledged, not knowing where to go from here.  Sirius had been such a big part of his life before being torn out of it, and now he was back, which was something Remus had never imagined happening.  Remus’s thoughts had only focused on their shared past, not once had he considered Sirius’s current obligations or his future.  “I guess I never put much thought into any of this.”

 

“No, Remus, you always manage to engage your brain before you do anything,” Sirius disagreed with a half-hearted chuckle.  “You’ve always said that I act too rashly and without thinking; well, you think far too much about things.  You never respond to how you _really_ feel, not unless it’s safe for you to do so, and it seems that you haven’t changed in that respect.”

 

Remus was unable to argue with Sirius on this point.  He had no idea what the future would hold or what circumstances they might find themselves in, and he wasn’t able to promise that things would be different.  Sirius was right: he hadn’t changed.

  

“If we were to continue seeing each other, you’d need it to be kept quiet,” Sirius pointed out, “and that wouldn’t only affect us, but everyone around us, too.  We’d both be living a lie, and I can’t live my life based on secrets anymore.  After all that’s happened, I’m going to try for an open and honest life, whichever way I can.  What we had…well, it’s just not possible now.  I want to start living in the real world.”

 

“So we can never have what we used to,” Remus acknowledged forlornly.

 

“No.  Things can’t be the same between us,” Sirius asserted, looking directly at Remus, his gaze never faltering.  “I can’t do it, not after what happened.”

 

And with that final proclamation, Remus felt something crumble inside.  It was over, and it was his fault.  He couldn’t remember anything hurting as much as this.  Not even when Sirius had been taken away to Azkaban Prison, when Remus had assumed him guilty of betrayal.  At least there had been a reason then, one in which Remus could find some sense of understanding.  He had been able to believe that there wasn’t anything he could have done: Sirius had been the one who had led a double life.  But this time round, there was no one else for Remus to blame.  

 

***

 

The material under his face felt wet, and he was shivering.  Opening his eyes, Remus was momentarily disorientated by the grey shapes and the silence that surrounded him.  Then he remembered where he was: Grimmauld Place.  He was alone and in bed, the blankets hanging off and draping over the floor.  For months he had been able to sleep without the re-emergence of that conversation in his dreams, but since coming back from Hogwarts, Remus had been haunted by it nearly every night.

 

It was late afternoon, and Remus rose slowly from his bed, his limbs aching from the transformation the night before.  He woke to find that the world was different.  Outside the window, there was a thin layer of white covering everything in view: houses, cars, the post box on the corner of the road, there was nothing that had remained untouched.  It seemed so peaceful and serene, but the snow also gave an unnatural silence to the world, a sense of vacancy, a coverall for everything.  It made its cold presence felt, something you couldn’t avoid if you went outside; even indoors, it was hard not to be aware of the difference to the world, the swift climatic change. 

 

Gingerly making his way around the kitchen whilst making a sandwich to eat, he was surprised and also worried when the doorbell rang.  He hadn’t been expecting anyone to turn up at Grimmauld Place that day.  There were no meetings arranged for the Order, no reason for anyone to want to contact him.

 

On the doorstep were Arthur and Molly Weasley.  They both looked tired, and Molly was clearly upset, her eyes red and her face sad.  She gave Remus a warm smile as he stood back to let them in.  

 

“We came to make sure you’re all right,” Molly said in a concerned voice as he led the way to the kitchen, and Remus wondered at why anyone should be checking up on him.  Nobody had felt the need after any other full moon. 

 

“No one had spoken to you, Remus,” Arthur added, as if in explanation. 

 

“I’m no different from any other month,” he replied.  “Has something happened?”

 

Molly nodded solemnly, and Remus felt sick at the expression on her face.  A vague sense of paranoia washed over him at the thought of the wolf having got out last night, attacking someone.  But he quickly dismissed the idea: the Wolfsbane Potion had seemed to work fine this month.  

 

“It’s over,” Arthur began with a grim determination.  “Voldemort’s been defeated, and they really believe it’s for good, this time.  He had found a way to storm Hogwarts Castle last night, in an attempt to get to Harry.  We managed to overpower him and most of his supporters who were there.”

 

Remus’s train of thought stopped abruptly at Arthur’s mention of Harry.  His stomach suddenly sunk to the floor.  “Harry… is he… all right?” 

 

“He will be,” Arthur confirmed.  “He’s in St. Mungo’s, at the moment.”

 

“St. Mungo’s?” he repeated dumbly, relieved that Harry was still alive, but also concerned to know that Harry had obviously been hurt quite badly.

 

“He was hit with a few curses, but he still managed to help take Voldemort down; it was the link through his scar that proved to be the key.  He’s unconscious at the moment, but they’re certain he’s going to come round in a few days.”

 

Remus nodded in acknowledgement, resisting the strong urge to leave for St. Mungo’s immediately.  No one had believed that Harry was ready, not at sixteen; everyone had assumed that any confrontation wouldn’t occur for a long time.  Remus looked back at Molly, noticing her red-rimmed eyes for a second time.  

 

“But there _were_ casualties?” he asked tentatively.

 

“I’m afraid so,” Arthur replied, nodding solemnly.  “Most of those involved were injured, and we lost four members of the Order: Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance,” Arthur paused and gave an uncomfortable glance in Molly’s direction before adding, “and Nymphadora Tonks.”

 

Numbness washed over Remus as he tried to acknowledge the entirety of what had happened.  He knew it would be several days before it would really sink in, just like the last time that Voldemort was defeated, and at such a price.  More death, more lives cut short, more faces that he was used to seeing in his own life had now been removed from it, forever.  Thank God Harry hadn’t been one of them.  

 

Lost in his thoughts, he was only vaguely aware of Molly telling him there would be a funeral service on Wednesday, in Hogsmeade.  Then Arthur was going through the details of what had occurred the night before, but Remus couldn’t concentrate, only being able to make out the odd disjointed word.  All he wanted to do was see Harry, to be able to touch him, to hold him.  Remus felt the need to see for himself that Harry had made it through in one piece.  But he knew that any concern he showed towards Harry would most likely be inappropriate, and it would be torture not to be able to reach out and hold Harry close.  He would have to wait until he could restrain himself from reacting in this way.

 

After they left, Remus sat staring into space, alone, vacantly sipping at the half-mug of cold tea that Molly had made him earlier.  It was too much to contemplate, and he found it hard to focus on any of it, so he let his thoughts drift towards Harry.  At least Harry was safe.  Finally, Harry had a future and the opportunity to make a life for himself without the constraints of a prophecy hanging over his head.  

 

Remus told himself reluctantly that he had no right to stand in the way of that future.  He could not allow himself to continue his intimacy with Harry.  He had to let Harry go, to let him live his life openly and honestly without any distractions that he’d have to hide from the world.  

 

_But should I tell him now, so soon after what has happened?_ he wondered.  _Would it be fair? Or would it be worse to drag it out, knowing what I intend to do?_

And what did he think he could say to Harry?  “Well done on defeating Voldemort, and by the way, we can’t see each other anymore.”  It seemed heartless, but then again, perhaps now was the perfect time to do it, now that Harry had the chance to live.  At least Remus had some time to think about how he could approach the subject.  

 

The days up to the funeral passed slowly, with only a couple of visitors to break the monotony.  Harry was still recovering in St. Mungo’s, and Remus had yet to visit him there; he doubted whether he would find the courage to visit Harry at all.  Those who had turned up at Grimmauld Place during the week had given him details of Harry’s slow recovery, and even hearing about Harry’s progress stirred emotions in Remus that left him feeling wholly uncomfortable.  Those emotions were irrelevant now: what he and Harry had… it had to end.  

 

Albus Dumbledore had been one of Remus’s visitors, and he arrived with a request: when Remus returned to Hogwarts at the end of the week, he was to collect Harry from St. Mungo’s.  The hospital was anticipating that Harry would have recovered enough to be able to return to school.  Although Harry was still potentially in danger from a few Death Eaters who were still on the loose, Albus believed a stay at the Green Dragon was no longer necessary.  On this occasion, they could Floo directly to Hogsmeade.  Remus tried to think of this as a good thing, knowing that it would remove temptation and help him follow through with his decision.  But it was hard to ignore the feeling of finality that came with the end of their evenings together.   

 

On the day of the funeral, he was left to make his way there on his own.  He tried to keep his mind clear as much as possible, reasoning that there would be plenty of time in the days that followed for him to dwell on his losses.  There were too many links and associations with the hall in Hogsmeade, including James and Lily’s service, which had been held at the same place.  Today he would remain as blank as he was able, leaving contemplation to another day, when he could have more perspective and more distance.  

 

He neared the hall, where the service was to be carried out, and heard the low hum of people who had already arrived.  He could imagine the type of tentative conversations that were probably taking place in an attempt to avoid silence.  He turned the final corner and saw the many black-enshrouded figures.  They milled around as a unit, linked by grief; many, like Remus, were waiting for the finality of this ceremony to be over once and for all.  He felt distanced from everyone else present and wished that Harry was there alongside him.  

 

Remus would have to wait until the end of the week before he could see Harry, and he allowed himself to focus on this thought throughout the service, letting the words drift past him.  He couldn’t listen to what was being said: he didn’t want to take in the emotive speeches being given; he didn’t want to react.  Even though there were plenty of people there that he knew, he wasn’t particularly close with any of them, and they were all collected together in their own little groupings.  He was solitary, and he didn’t want to attract attention.  There was too much bubbling away at the surface, too many things that could come out.  Later on, when he would be alone, it would be safer.  

 

Once the service was finally over, he made his way out of the hall, speaking a few words of comfort to the families of those who had died.  He intended to find a quiet spot nearby to gather himself together, and then he would go back to the hall to talk with others whom it would be impolite for him to ignore completely.  

 

As he rounded a bend in the lane that led from the hall, he saw Fred, who was standing underneath a Yew tree, his shoulders hunched, and his head hanging heavily.  George was next to him, with an arm around him, and Remus could see George talking to him.  _Poor Fred,_ Remus thought.  _After what he felt for Tonks…_ Remus understood that very few people, if any, would appreciate how Fred must be feeling at that moment.  George looked up and beckoned for Remus to join them.  

 

As Remus approached, Fred spoke up.  

 

“I never did get around to letting Tonks know how much I liked her,” he said wistfully, his voice full of regret.  “I was too busy worrying about what Mum might think, and that I was too young for Tonks…” 

 

“I wish there was something I could say to help,” Remus said.  “The only thought with which I can console myself is that at least she died fighting for a good cause, something she believed in…” he trailed off as he noticed that both Fred and George were staring at him with identical bewildered expressions.  

 

“Remus, who told you how Tonks died?” George asked tentatively.

 

“Your father went over the details with me, but I must admit, I wasn’t taking it all in.  I assumed that they were all killed either by Death Eaters, or possibly by Voldemort himself…” George was shaking his head slowly.  “Then what…?”

 

“She didn’t die fighting for a cause she believed in,” Fred said bitterly.  “When You-Know-Who was defeated, she was still alive.”

 

George gave his brother a look of concern, and squeezed his shoulder briefly before taking over the explanation of what happened.

 

“She had spent twenty minutes or so helping to clear the mess that had been left before leaving with Professor McGonagall.  They were going to contact a few people using the Floo Network.  On the way, she tripped on a Death Eater’s wand that had been abandoned at the top of the main staircase.  McGonagall couldn’t do anything to help, her own wand had been snapped in two earlier on; she could only watch as Tonks fell.  Her neck had already broken before she reached the bottom.”

 

Remus’s breath caught at the back of his throat; her death had been meaningless, then, something that could’ve happened at any time, to anyone.  Collecting himself together, he tried to make amends for his blunder by offering what little consolation he could.  Then he left Fred and George alone once more.  As he walked away, he could barely contain his despair at the senselessness of it all.

 

Nothing about the day had shaken Remus more than learning about the circumstances of Tonks’s death.  It wasn’t a death that could be anticipated; it was an unexpected way to end a life, a type of ending from which no one was immune, including Harry.  Even without the prophecy looming over him, Harry’s life could end prematurely, in an unexpected, pointless way, not unlike what had happened to Sirius.  Finally, Remus knew that, no matter what decision he thought he’d come to before, he couldn’t give up Harry.  

 

Even if it would be the right thing to do, Remus wasn’t ready to stop seeing Harry, not yet.  So what if they had to keep secrets?  It would be worth it to be able to enjoy Harry’s company for as long as was possible.  Now that there was no longer the threat to Harry’s life from Voldemort, perhaps it would be easier for them to meet in private.  The first opportunity would be at the weekend, when he and Harry returned to Hogwarts.  They could both go up to Remus’s office once they got there and spend some time alone together before Harry went back to Gryffindor tower.  

 

On the day they were due to return to Hogwarts, Remus arrived early at the hospital to find that Harry was already up and dressed.  He immediately noticed Harry’s drained appearance and the flecks of grey that were now showing in his hair.  It was heartbreaking to watch the slow, pained way in which Harry was moving; he looked far too old for his years.  Harry greeted him awkwardly, and Remus carried his things to the main fireplace in the hospital.  He couldn’t help feeling that the atmosphere between them was strained, and he assumed that Harry, like himself, was waiting for them to be alone before they could both relax.  

 

It wasn’t until they were making their way up the driveway to Hogwarts Castle that Remus opened his mouth to speak, but Harry interrupted him before he had the chance to finish his first word. 

 

“Har—”

 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about things this week,” Harry said in a rush.  “About my future and what I want from it now that Voldemort is dead.”

 

“Have you come to any conclusions… or made any decisions?”

 

“I don’t think we should carry on seeing each other anymore.”

 

Even as his expectations came crashing down around him, Remus immediately put up his barriers.  Harry was looking at Remus apprehensively after making this announcement, as if trying to assess his reaction; Remus forced a smile.  _I was supposed to be the one to end things between us, Harry._   _You can’t do this…_ Remus silently pleaded.  _I was going to… but, not yet… I’m not ready._   Remus tried to compose himself.  If Harry had made his decision, then it wouldn’t be fair to try changing it.

 

“If that’s what you want, then I certainly won’t get in your way, Harry,” he said, trying hard not to let his voice break as he spoke.

 

Harry continued to stare into Remus’s face, looking slightly saddened by what he saw there.  “I want to be able to think long-term about things, now that I have the chance,” he explained.  “I finally have the opportunity to live a normal life, without having the weight of the world on my shoulders… You told me before not to hold myself back for you.  Well, maybe you were right.  If I’m going to be with someone, then I want to be able to talk about them to my friends.”

 

“I understand,” Remus said, still desperately trying not to let it show just how devastated he was by Harry’s decision.

 

“I guess I don’t need what we had, anymore,” Harry continued.  “I want a relationship that I can be open about.  I’m not able to have that with you, and I wasn’t able to have that with Tonks, either.”  Harry began to lower his voice as they drew closer to the front doors of the castle.  “I’m tired of having to keep secrets.”

 

_I’m tired of secrets, too,_ Remus acknowledged silently, _so tired...._   He gave Harry another fake smile.

 

“If we were to continue seeing each other, you’d need it to be kept quiet,” Harry pointed out, “and that wouldn’t only affect us, but everyone around us, too.  We’d both be living a lie, and I can’t live my life based on secrets anymore.  After all that’s happened, I’m going to try for an open and honest life, whichever way I can.  What we had…well, it’s just not possible now.  I want to start living in the real world.”

 

These last few words were uttered as Harry pulled the front doors open.  Even though it was Harry who was standing in front of him, Harry’s lips that were moving… all Remus had heard was Sirius’s voice, lifted from the dream that had been plaguing him for so long.  It was like a slap to the face, as if Sirius had re-emerged only to taunt him.  He barely noticed Harry giving him one last sad smile before Harry turned and walked up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.  

 

Remus remained standing in the entrance hall, letting time pass him by.  He was to go back to being alone, emotionally cut off, and acknowledging this made the future seem very bleak.  What was he supposed to do? What _could_ he do?  It was as if Sirius was shouting at him to decide what he _really_ wanted for once.  _I’ve got to sort out my priorities,_ he realised.  _I don’t want this;_ _I don’t want to let him go.  But what else can I do? The rest of the world would tell me to leave him be now that he’s walked away, to stay well away from him.  To do what I did with Sirius…_

 

After the confrontation at Remus’s house, he had backed off from Sirius, waiting for the time when he would be able to cope with being honest to people, when he would no longer worry about what they would think, or until Sirius changed his mind.  _Perhaps once the war is over,_ Remus had thought at the time.  _Then if people don’t like what we’re doing, we don’t have to see them…_ But Sirius had never made it that far, and their remaining time together had been wasted.  

 

The events of the past week suddenly put his relationship with Sirius into perspective.  What would it have mattered, really, if Remus could’ve been close to Sirius once more, for that short time he had been alive?  It would’ve been worth putting up with anything that others might have said on the subject.  He had missed his opportunity, misjudged his priorities.  

 

He finally appreciated that relationships were things to be proud of, and if they were worth having, then he should be prepared to accept all that came with them.  Sirius had moved on, tired of waiting for Remus to show just how much Sirius meant to him by being willing to tell the world.  All Remus had done was show Sirius that the opinions of others meant more to him than being with Sirius did.  He had never thought to prove Sirius wrong.  He had never been able to turn around and say “I can do it differently.  You mean that much to me”; he had just taken everything that Sirius had said and accepted it.  He had never realised that Sirius might have been testing him to see how far Remus would be prepared to leap for their relationship.  But at the time, Remus hadn’t been brave enough to do what Sirius wanted: to “take life by the balls”, as Sirius had often put it, irrespective of what other people might think.  Remus realised that he was about to make the same mistake with Harry. 

 

A subtle cough snapped Remus out of his reverie.  He brought himself back to reality with a shake of the head, to find Albus Dumbledore looking at him with concern.  

 

“Remus, is everything all right?”

 

“No,” he replied with a slight amount of trepidation in his voice.  He realised that it was no longer a case of doing the right thing, but of working out what he _really_ wanted and just doing it, following his own heart rather than the dictates of others.  He knew what he had to do this time.  “I have to resign.”

 

“I must say this is most unexpected,” Albus said in surprise.  “May I ask your reasons?”  

 

“I’ve been involved with a student,” Remus admitted, trusting that Albus would deal with the situation in his usual calm and focused manner.  

 

“Ah,” Albus said as he studied Remus over the top of his glasses, his gaze betraying none of his thoughts on the matter.  

 

“I don’t think it would be fitting for me to continue working here,” Remus pointed out.  

 

“Yes, you’re quite right; it would be rather… inappropriate for you to remain here as a teacher.”  Albus nodded gravely.  “I assume you intend to leave immediately?”

 

“Yes, it would probably be best if I left as soon as possible.  I’ll go back to my office and pack my things now.”

 

“Dinner will be starting in a few moments.  You could join us for one last meal.”

 

“No, I don’t think I will.  You know that I don’t like to drag these things out.”

 

“Very well.  In that case, unless you have any objections, I will inform the rest of the school that you are leaving.  Obviously, I will not be explicit concerning your reason why.”  Albus turned to leave, but not before giving Remus a friendly smile.  “And Remus, if you should need anyone with whom you can discuss your… circumstances, my door will always be open.”

 

Remus gave a word of thanks before leaving for his office.  Once there, he slowly began to collect his things together, remembering the circumstances surrounding his last departure from Hogwarts and the concerned last-minute visitor he had received that time.  

 

He expected Harry to arrive after dinner, after he had heard Albus’s announcement, and Remus thought over exactly what he wanted to say.  He knew he could have no expectations that Harry would want to continue seeing him after he had made his offer.  So, he consoled himself in the knowledge that, if Harry wasn’t interested, at least Remus had finally managed to break free from his previous self-built constraints on life.  He would take life by the balls, just as Sirius had always wanted him to.  

 

Just as he was packing the last of his things into his trunk, a loud knock came from his office door.

 

“Come in,” Remus called out.

 

A disgruntled looking Harry strode in, followed by Ron and Hermione.  

 

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Harry asked angrily, unable to keep the hurt look from his face.

 

“And why _are_ you leaving?” Ron added.  

 

“If the reason was open for public dissection then I’m sure Professor Dumbledore would have told you at dinner,” Remus told Ron firmly.  He looked across at Hermione.  “Would you two mind if I spoke to Harry alone, for a moment?”

 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Remus and cast a worried glance in Harry’s direction before taking a perplexed Ron by the arm and ushering him out of the room.

 

“Did someone find out about us? Have you been sacked?” Harry asked anxiously after the door had been closed.

 

“No. Yet again, I’ve resigned,” Remus said, leaning back on his desk. He looked soberly at Harry. “But I have to admit that it _was_ because of you.”

 

Harry gaped at him in confusion.

 

“It’s not right for a teacher to want a student, not in the way that I want you,” Remus explained. “I know I said that I wouldn’t get in the way if you don’t want us to carry on seeing each other, but if you should change your mind, my position at Hogwarts is no longer an issue. I guess the fact that you’re only sixteen is a slight problem, but you will be of age in a few months time.”

 

Harry’s mouth was moving silently, his eyes wide in shock, and Remus plunged on, hoping that Harry would at least consider what he was saying.

 

“I can wait until you’re seventeen, and when you are, you wouldn’t have to worry about keeping secrets anymore: I wouldn’t object to you telling anyone about us… I’ll understand if it’s not what you want…”

 

As Remus trailed off, he watched as the look of shock on Harry’s face turned into an enthusiastic smile. Within less than a second, Harry had closed the distance between them, flinging his arms around Remus and nearly knocking him back onto the desk. Then Harry’s lips were upon his, kissing him deeply, and all of Remus’s insecurities were washed away.

 

Breaking apart for air, Harry gazed at Remus, his eyes glistening.

 

“Remus… what I said before… I’m sorry. I didn’t think there was any chance you felt the same way that I do. But you didn’t have to resign; you could have just told me what you wanted.”

 

Remus looked into Harry’s eyes, vaguely reminiscing about Lily’s kindness and compassion. She wouldn’t have wanted Remus to resign, either.

 

“Harry, I could have confessed how I felt about you until I was blue in the face, but you wouldn’t have believed me if I turned around and said you had to keep it a secret.”

 

“I guess not. So you want to wait until I’m seventeen, and then we can tell people that we’re together?”

 

“I certainly wouldn’t use the word ‘want’,” Remus admitted. “But I think it would be for the best if we’re going to be continuing this long-term.”

 

Remus stared at Harry, curious at the way he was chewing his bottom lip as if deep in thought. Finally, Harry spoke.

 

“I know I said that I don’t want to keep secrets, but I don’t want to have to wait until the end of July, either.”

 

“What did you have in mind?”

 

“How about a compromise?” Harry suggested with a grin. “I don’t have a problem with a bit of short-term secrecy…”

 

It was now Remus’s turn to smile enthusiastically, and he drew Harry in close to kiss him once more. This time, he let his hands wander, relishing the feel of being able to touch Harry intimately again. Harry responded eagerly, letting out a soft moan around Remus’s mouth and pressing his body flush against Remus’s. Feeling himself becoming more and more turned on, Remus pulled back reluctantly before he got too carried away.

 

“As much as I’d like to carry on with this now, there’s a chance that Albus will turn up to say goodbye before I leave,” Remus said in a disgruntled tone. Then he grinned in realisation. “I believe you have a Hogsmeade weekend soon. Perhaps you could meet me there. We could go somewhere private for the day and find _something_ to do…”

 

“I think I can cope with a few illicit meetings like that before my birthday.”

 

Letting out a small chuckle, Remus squeezed Harry tightly, pressing his lips against the soft, black hair. They had a future, together, and for the first time in his life, Remus couldn’t give a damn what anyone else might think.


End file.
